Fate Parallel Fantasia
by ProfMorbius
Summary: A Fate/Stay Night mega-crossover. The Fifth Holy Grail war has begun. But abnormal Servants are appearing who are not epic spirits of historical legend, but rather characters from other anime...
1. Prologue Day 2 Shirou Fate Alter

**Prologue — Day 2: Shirou — Fate/Alter**

Shirou Emiya knew that he was dead.

The blue-clad man thrust his red lance at Shirou's chest. The lance shot forwards like lightning. It was a strike that would certainly pierce Shirou's heart. Rather, it felt like it had already pierced his heart. The outcome of his heart being pierced was certain; the completion of the thrust was a mere formality.

There was a flash of golden light. The sound of metal striking metal and being repelled. The blue-clad man let out a curse and jumped backwards as someone stepped out from behind Shirou.

The stranger, who seemed to have appeared out of thin air, was a beautiful girl. She had golden hair and shining green eyes. However, her clothing was not a fine dress befitting such a beauty. Rather, she wore the steel plate armor of a knight. And though she didn't appear to have a weapon, she began advancing without fear or hesitation towards the blue-clad man wielding the cruel red spear.

The girl held her hands out in front of her as she walked, as though miming holding an invisible sword. Then, to his surprise, Shirou realized that she was indeed gripping the hilt of an invisible weapon. Though he couldn't see it with his eyes, he could picture the length and breadth of the sword perfectly in his mind. It felt like he had seen it somewhere before, though he couldn't place it exactly; as though it was a vision from a half-forgotten dream.

The blue-clad man grimaced. He too could tell that the girl held an invisible weapon; however, unlike Shirou, he didn't seem able to intuit its length. And without knowing how long the blade was, he couldn't be sure of the girl's reach. He didn't know whether or not he was within her striking distance.

The girl suddenly stepped forwards, swinging her invisible blade. The blue-clad man instantly jumped backwards, trying to pull back to a safe distance. As he reached the apex of his leap, the air around the sword began to swirl. The confined space of the toolshed was filled with a sudden whirlwind. Then, a huge amount of compressed air exploded from the tip of the sword. The gush of wind struck the blue-clad man like a physical impact, sending him hurtling backwards. He smashed through one of the toolshed's windows and landed crashed inelegantly to the ground outside. He quickly rolled to his feet and raised his spear into a defensive position as if by reflex; then, after a moment's consideration, he turned and fled.

The girl lowered her sword. For a moment, Shirou thought he saw a gleaming golden blade grasped in her hands; then the wind died down, seeming to compress itself into a sheath around the blade, and the sword was once more invisible.

The girl seemed unfazed by her sudden appearance and her fight against the blue-clad man. She simply turned to face Shirou with her clear, calm eyes.

"I ask of you: are you my Master?" the girl said.

"Uhhh... what?" Shirou said, incapable of anything more eloquent under the circumstances.

"Again, I ask of you: are you my Master?" the girl repeated.

"I don't understand." Shirou said. "Where did you come from? What's going on?"

The back of Shirou's right hand throbbed. Raising it to see if he was injured, he saw that a strangle, tattoo-like design had materialized on the back of his hand. The girl also saw the design and lowered her head in acknowledgment.

"I have come forth in response to your summons." the girl said. "From this time forward, my sword shall be with you and your fate shall be with me. Our contract is complete. I, Servant Saber, hereby swear to help you attain the Holy Grail."

Shirou stared up at her face. He didn't understand a single thing about what had just happened, and there were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but all he could think of was how beautiful a girl the knight who had saved him was.

At that moment, the toolshed's door was kicked in. Shirou and the girl calling herself Saber instantly whirled to face the entrance. Shirou's immediate fear was that the blue-clad man had only reigned retreat, and was now returning to finish the job. However, standing in the broken doorframe was an entirely different man.

He wore dark blue pants with a black belt and a long black coat that left his muscular chest exposed. His right eye was covered with a large black eyepatch, like a pirate. The letters "DSMK" were tattooed just above the top edge of the eyepatch. Most distinctively of all, the man's right arm ended in a stump just slightly below his shoulder.

"You!" the man said, pointing at Shirou with his single arm. "Are you the dipshit Master who summoned me? Did a pretty crappy job of it, if you ask my opinion. It seems that our contract isn't complete; I'm not receiving any prana from you at all. And would it have been too much trouble to summon me with both arms? I don't mind the eye so much, but missing my right arm is really going to cramp my style a bit. I think it would've been in your best interest to summon me at full strength, given that I'm lending you my sword and you're entrusting me with your fate and all that."

He crossed his arms — which is to say, crossed his left arm over to the stump of the right — and stared at Shirou as though expecting a reply. Before Shirou could even begin to understand the situation, let alone come up with an appropriate response, Saber stepped between them and brandished her invisible sword.

"Who are you?" Saber demanded of the intruder. "What do you want of my Master?"

"What the hell do you mean by that?" the man asked. "That young man is my Master, and I'm the Servant who has answered his admittedly botched summons to fight by his side and obtain the Holy Grail. I am Servant Saber!"


	2. Prologue Day 1 Rin Red A Black A

**Prologue — Day 1: Rin — Red Archer / Black Archer**

A girl stood in front of a magic circle, a look of intense concentration on her face.

She was a teenage high-school student. She wore a red shirt with a white cross on it along with a miniskirt and thigh-high black stockings. Her long, dark hair was pulled into twintails. The girl's name was Rin Tohsaka, and she was about to begin her participation the Heaven's Feel — a centuries-old ritual more commonly known as the Holy Grail War.

The Holy Grail War was a conflict between seven magi over the Holy Grail, an omnipotent wish-granting device that would rarely and intermittently manifest itself in the city of Fuyuki, Japan. Ten years ago, Rin's father had been killed in the Fourth Grail War. Ever since that day, she had been preparing to fight in the Fifth War. It was a duty she had expected to have to wait a long time to fulfill; the average time between appearances of the Grail was about sixty years. However, a mere ten years after the end of the previous war, the Grail was already preparing to show itself again. The proof was engraved on the back of her right hand, where three red marks had appeared. They were her Command Spells, a blessing that the Grail granted to the seven magi whom it deemed worthy to compete for it. The time had finally come for her to claim the Grail and redeem the Tohsaka family name.

The magi who competed in the Grail War did not combat each other directly; rather, each participant summoned an epic spirit to fight on their behalf. These legendary heroes took on the form of Servants, who were divided into seven different classes: Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker. Each class had different strengths and weaknesses; but on the whole, Saber was considered the most powerful. If Rin could manage to summon a Servant of the Saber class, victory would certainly be hers. After three hundred years of conflict, after four Wars which ended with no victor and the Grail departing unclaimed, she would be the one to finally complete the ritual and acquire the miraculous object.

Though the Grail was said to be capable of granting any wish, Rin hadn't seriously thought about what she'd use it for. The mere act of winning and obtaining it would be enough to fulfill her every desire. Her father's failure would be redeemed. Her name would go down in magus history. Her acceptance to the London Clock Tower, headquarters of the Magic Association, would be guaranteed. She might even get some respect from the Sorcerer Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, who was one of the magi who originally created the ritual for summoning the Grail, way back when. One of Rin's ancestors, Nagato Tohsoka had been a student of his, so he took somewhat of an interest in each new magus of the Tohsaka family line. Unfortunately, it seemed Nagato had been only a mediocre magus and something of a goof-up; worse, Rin apparently reminded the old Sorcerer of Nagato. He probably didn't expect her to accomplish anything great in her lifetime; but she'd definitely prove herself in his eyes by taking the Grail.

Rin took a deep breath, then opened her magic circuit and began the chant to call forth her Servant.

"Hear me! I command thee to my side and entrust my fate in thine sword. If thou will concede to this will and reason, answer my call and take heed in the refuge of the Holy Grail. It is my oath to thee that I embody all that is good in the Eternal World, and oppose all that is evil and corrupt. I call upon you, the Seven Heavens, protector of the Great Spirit Trinity. Keeper of the balance, come forth!"

As she spoke the final words of the summoning spell, she poured her magic prana into the circle. The engraved lines seethed with red light as the spell took effect, and Rin prepared to gaze up the face of the Servant that was about to be called before her.

For several moments, nothing happened.

Nothing continued to happen for several more.

The red light of the summoning circle began to fade. There was still no indication of anything happening.

"What the hell!?" Rin demanded.

She had spent years preparing for this moment. She had practiced the ritual a thousand times to eliminate the possibility of making even the slightest error. She had used half of the supply of prana that she had been saving up inside of gems for years. She was even performing the ritual at 2 AM in the morning, the time when her magic was at its peak...

...though, come to think of it, hadn't she arrived to school an hour early in the morning? Since she wasn't much of a morning person, she had been far too fuzzy-headed to think much of it at the time, but could it be that her clock was an hour fast? In that case, the current time wasn't 2 AM as she had thought, but only 1 AM. Then, when performing the summoning, she hadn't actually been at her peak—

A sound like an explosion came from another part of the Tohsaka mansion — the living room, it sounded like. Tohsaka immediately ran to the room to see what had happened..

The ceiling had caved in, exposing the room to the night sky. A shaft of moonlight illuminated a man in a red coat reclining on her couch. He had tanned skin and white hair, and gave Rin a wry smile as he saw her enter the room.

"I take it you're my Master, then." the man said. "It seems I've been summoned by a strange little girl."

"You... you're my Servant?" Rin asked, a little nervously.

"That is correct." the Servant said. "I, Servant Archer, have answered your call to fight for the Holy Grail. Let us fight together and seize victory from the cold iron jaws of battle."

He stood and gave her a short bow. Rin got the feeling it was more out of mockery than respect. Rin couldn't help but scowl a little.

"Servant Archer?" she said haughtily. "Well, I was hoping for Saber, but I suppose second-best will have to do. It's probably better this way; after all, if would be boring if I defeated my opponents _too_ easily."

"Well, I can't imagine how a Master of your obvious skill—" Archer casually indicated the damaged surroundings with a sweep of one arm "—failed to summoner Saber. But you needn't be concerned. I am an exceptionally powerful Servant. I should be able to defeat the competition handily... regardless of the quality of my Master."

Rin's hand twitched. He was definitely mocking her. She tried to keep her cool; even though they were called Servants, they were the spirits of epic heroes from legend. It was only natural that they would have powerful egos.

"If you're so confident of your power, you must be a very famous hero." Rin said. "What was your identity when you were alive?"

"Well, as to that." Archer sighed. "Unfortunately, there are some holes in my memory. While I retain all my practical knowledge about things such as combat, I can't precisely remember who I was or in what time period I lived. It's likely a result of a mistake in the summoning spell — are you sure you said every single word? You didn't cough or mumble, did you?"

Rin's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Well, judging by the state of the room, you clearly did _something_ wrong." Archer said. "My memory might come back to me at some point... or it might not. There's really no way to know for sure."

Rin wasn't too upset about getting Archer instead of Saber. Saber, Archer, and Lancer were known as the three Knight classes because may of the great heroic knights of legend were proficient in fighting with swords, bows, and lancers. Though the Saber class was considered the most powerful of the three, it was not uncommon for extremely powerful legendary spirits to be summoned into Archer class. If this heroic spirit who had taken on the role of Archer was stronger than the heroic spirit who ended up taking the role of Saber, then Rin could still achieve victory. Archer being unable to remember his name, however, was a more significant problem.

Rin's was upset by Archer's amnesia not merely because it was clearly her own fault, indisputable proof that she had screwed up the most important magic ritual of her life. No, far more troubling was how it would affect his ability to battle. Each Servant usually possessed between one and three Noble Phantasms, conceptual weapons which embodied aspects of their heroic legend. For the Knight Classes, their Noble Phantasms were usually the legendary weapons they had wielded in life: their mythical sword or bow or lance. However, since Archer was unable to remember his identity, he wouldn't be able to summon the embodiment of his legend. His Noble Phantasm might be some truly incredible bow like Brahmastra or Nine Lives; but without knowing who he was, he couldn't know what embodied his legend, and therefore how to activate his Noble Phantasm.

"Are you upset at me?" Archer asked her.

"No." Rin said. "I'm upset at myself. It's my fault, after all."

Archer's expression seemed to soften.

"To tell the truth, I was being a little harder on you than I should." Archer said. "You made a mistake during the summoning; but that aside, your power as a Master is incredible. The amount of prana I'm getting from you definitely indicates that you're first-rate."

Rin blushed, then quickly turned her back on the Servant to hide her reaction.

"Well, naturally!" she said authoritatively "There's no need to state anything so obvious! I am a magus of the Tohsaka line; it is my proud duty to bear the weight of the Tohsaka family honor—"

At that moment, there was a second loud explosion within the house.

"On second thought, I may have to revise my opinion." Archer said.

"Oh, for—!" Rin said. "Archer! Stop snarking and come with me! This might not be something I did — it could be an enemy attack!

To his credit, the red-coated Servant followed her order immediately and without question. The two of them quickly ran to another room, where a large chunk of the ceiling had also caved in. A slender girl was pulling herself up out of the debris. She had black hair and purple eyes. She wore a white shirt with a purple collar, a purple skirt, and black stockings. A purple gemstone was embedded in the back of her right hand. Contrasting sharply with the dull tones of the rest of her outfit was a bright pink ribbon in her hair.

"Careful, Rin." Archer said. "She's a Servant."

The girl brushed hair from her eyes and glanced at Rin.

"That is correct." she said. "I have been summoned to participate in this Grail War as Servant Archer. Are you my Master?"

"Archer?" Rin asked. "That's impossible. I just summoned Archer..."

She waved vaguely at the Servant in the red coat.

"That does appear to be another Servant of the Archer class." the girl said, tilting her head. "However, I cannot imagine how it is possible for Archers to have been summoned within a single War."

"Unbelievable." the male Archer said. "There must have been a major problem with the summoning spell for something like this to happen."

"There were certainly some irregularities in my summoning." the girl said. "My arrival was a bit rough, and I don't have a proper connection with my summoner. I'm not receiving any prana, as though you aren't properly contracted to me as my Master."

Rin checked her back of her hand.

"And I only have the usual three Command Spells." she said. "Are you sure I'm the one who summoned you?"

"I arrived here, did I not?" the girl said. "And, judging from the other hole in the roof, I did so in the same manner as the other Archer-class Servant you summoned."

"So you performed a summoning so bad it actually broke the Grail?" the older, red-coated Archer asked Rin. "That's actually pretty impressive, in its own way. I feel like I should applaud."

"This cannot possibly be my fault!" Rin protested. "Although... as long as it's happening, I suppose I might as well take advantage of it."

"You intend to formally contract with me as well, then?" the female Archer asked.

"Of course I do!" Rin said. "Having two Archers will be my compensation for not getting Saber like I should have in the first place."

"I would advise against this course of action, Rin." the male Archer said sternly. "Your prana supply is limited. Splitting it between two Servants will make us both weak. It would be better for you to choose the Servant which best suits you, then use a Command Spell to force the other Servant to commit suicide."

From the tone in his voice, the male Archer clearly thought that he was the superior Servant and Black Archer the inferior. As a hero who had fought many battles, he was probably skilled in analyzing his opponents' combat abilities in a single glance — although, given his proposed solution to the situation, it would also be well in his interest to lie if he thought himself inferior. Rin didn't have the same ability to size up people's abilities at a glance; however, one of the powers given to Masters was the ability to perceive Servants' abilities and compare them against each other in terms of ranking. Based on what she could see this way, the male Archer did seem to be telling the truth. He was equal or superior to the female Archer in all parameters except for his Noble Phantasm. Since the male Archer had forgotten his identity, he didn't know what his Noble Phantasm was, and there was no telling whether it was stronger, equivalent to, or weaker than the female Archer's rank in that regard. But going by the information she could see, if she were to enter the War with only a single Servant, he would be the better one.

However...

"And just how low of an opinion do you have of your Master, Archer?" Rin demanded. "You think I wouldn't be able to bear the burden of two Servants? Just watch me!"

She opened her jewel box and withdrew a handful of gems. One of the specialized applications of the Tohsaka family magic was the ability to store prana inside of crystals. As part of her preparation for the War, she'd spent some time every day for the past ten years charging up gemstones for later use. She'd planned to use the gems offensively; with the amount of prana she'd imbued them with, each could be detonated with power equivalent to a Rank A magical attack — enough to potentially kill even a Servant, provided it didn't have the Magic Resistance class ability. Now, however, she saw a different application for that stored magic. Tipping her head back, Rin swallowed the handful of gems.

She immediately felt a fiery heat spread through her body as she began drawing on the stored prana of the gems. The amount of energy her body could handle at a single time was still limited by the capacity of her magic circuits, so each of the Archers would still be a bit weaker than if she was giving all her prana to a single Servant. However, with the additional supply of the gems filling her reserves, she wouldn't have to worry about running out.

Thus fortified, Rin extended her hand towards the second Archer and repeated the incantation.

"There." she said with satisfaction. "I am now your Master."

"And I your Servant." the girl said.

"Since that's been taken care of, what's your name?" Rin asked the girl. "Please don't tell me you can't remember it either."

"I can remember." the girl said. "You seem to have performed that part of my summoning correctly — it was our prana connection that you screwed up."

"Your name." Rin said through gritted teeth. "Tell it to me."

"There's really no point." the girl said.

"Oh, come on!" Rin said. "If I'm going to be commanding you in battle, I need to fully understand your capabilities and potential weaknesses. Therefore, I need to know your true identity. How can you possible say there's no point to that?"

"Allow me to explain further, then." the girl said. "The heroes who can summoned to participate in the Holy Grail War fall into two categories: Heroic Spirits and Counter-Guardians. Heroic Spirits are ancient heroes who have become famous for their deeds, causing their souls to be removed from the cycle of reincarnation and be raised to the Throne of Heroes. Counter-Guardians, by contrast, did not necessarily become famous within their own lifetimes. They were able to join the Throne of Heroes by making a contract: they received a miracle from the World in life, and in exchange they render their services to the World as a Counter-Guardian after death. I am not a legendary hero; merely an anonymous soul fulfilling the conditions of her contract through service in this War. Therefore, even if I were to speak my name, you wouldn't recognize it."

"If I wanted a boring lecture, I'd ask that shitty fake priest." Rin said. "Both of you have done nothing but give me grief since being summoned, and I'm sick of it. I think it's about time you recognized my proper authority as your Master. So, I'll ask for the last time: What. Is. Your. Name?"

The female Archer gazed at her levelly for a moment, then deliberately ignored her and turned to the male Archer.

"What a belligerent girl." she said, speaking as though Rin wasn't there.

"She's talented as a magus, but a bit immature." the male Archer agreed. "Our chances of winning the War will probably be better if we lock her in the basement and plan our strategy without her."

Rin's hands clenched into fists. Enough was enough. If she didn't take a stand, her Servants would walk all over her. It was time to establish who was in charge around here. She raised her right hand and focused her will.

"Vertrag...! Ein neuer Nagel Ein neues Gesetz Ein neues Verbrechen—!" she shouted.

Both Archers froze and turned towards her, comical expressions of surprise on their faces.

"Hey, wait a minute..." the male Archer said. "You aren't actually going to..."

"Oh yes I am!" Rin said. "I'm exercising my right as a Master — the power to compel absolute obedience from my Servants! Maybe next time you'll think twice before acting rudely!"

"This seems rather impulsive..." the female Archer began.

"Too late to apologize now!" Rin said. "By my Command Spell, I order you! Whenever I ask you a question, you will answer me quickly and honestly!"

One of the three Command Spells on the back of her hand flared brightly, then vanished.

"Say," Rin asked the male Archer, "did that order affect you as well? I'm not sure how having two Servants works, exactly."

"I didn't feel anything; it seems a single Command Spell can only affect a single Servant." the male Archer said. "But more importantly... you do realize what a worthless command that was, right?"

"I think it was justified by your entirely unacceptable behavior." Rin said. "I'm not going to sit back while my Servants give me the run-around."

"I'm not talking about that." the male Archer said. "I'm referring to how open-ended your command was. The longer period a Command Spell is intended to act over, the weaker its effect becomes. A simple, immediate order is best; telling the Servant to behave a certain way forever diminishes the Command Spell's effect to the point of making it completely useless."

"Oh." Rin's cheeks began to flush. "Um. Really?"

"That is indeed normally the case." the female Archer said. "However, it seems you are in fact an exceptional magus, as the Command Spell is having an effect on me. It is not an absolute compulsion — I could fight it if I had sufficient motivation — but given the nature of the order, resisting would be more trouble than it's worth. I will consider it a reminder mind my manners in the future."

The female Archer bowed her head to Rin.

"I apologize for my rudeness." the girl said. "My interpersonal skills are not very good, but I will endeavor to be more polite in the future."

"Thank you." Rin said. "Now, could you please let me know your true name?"

"Before becoming a Counter-Guardian, I was known by the name Homura Akemi." the Servant said.

"Homura Akemi." Rin said. "You're right that I don't know you from history, but it's still a good thing for me to know your name. I mean, the other Servant doesn't remember his real name, so I pretty much have to just call him Archer; so I needed something besides Archer to call you, or things would get pretty confusing."

"I don't mind you knowing my name." Homura said. "However, please don't call me by it in the presence of enemy Servants. Even if you do not recognize it, they might."

"What?" Rin said. "Even though you're an anonymous Counter-Guardian or whatever?"

"When a Servant is summoned by the Holy Grail, they receive knowledge of all other souls enshrined in the Throne of Heroes." Homura explained. "That way, we are capable of recognizing the identities of the other Servants; even ones who have a highly obscure identity, or ones who hadn't even been born yet during our own lifetime."

"Is that true?" Rin asked the male Archer.

"Pretty much." he said with a frown. "I don't recognize her name, but that could be more memory loss from the flawed summoning."

"Alright, fine!" Rin said. "If that's the way you want to play it, so be it!"

"You!" Rin pointed at the nameless male Archer in a red coat. "I'll call you Red Archer. And you —" Rin pointed at the black-haired girl who named herself Homura Akemi — "I'll call you Black Archer. There, problem solved."

"If that is what you wish, I will not object." Black Archer said.

"I suppose if I disagree, you'll waste another Command Spell on the issue." Red Archer said. "Well, whatever; it's not so bad a nickname."

"And I suppose I should introduce myself as well." Rin said. "I am your Master, Rin Tohsaka, a magus of..."

Rin trailed off and turned to Red Archer.

"Hey, wait a minute." she said. "You called me by my name earlier. How'd you know it?"

"You told it to me." Red Archer said casually. "Back when you were saying something ridiculous about upholding the Tohsaka family honor."

Rin frowned.

"I thought I only said my last name then, not my first..." she said, trying to recall her exact words.

"I think you might be a little confused." Red Archer said. "You look pretty tired."

Rin had been trying to hide it, but she was indeed exhausted. Not only had she stayed up until early in the morning to perform the summoning, but the burden of supplying prana to two Servants was wearing on her despite the support from her gems. She really needed some sleep. She could think about this more when her head had cleared.

"Yeah, you're right." Rin said. "I'm going to bed now. Archers, you caused this mess, so have it cleaned up by the time I wake up, okay?"

Red Archer and Black Archer looked around and the wreckage surrounding him.

"Hey." Red Archer said. "You aren't actually serious about that, right...?"

Ignoring him, Rin walked to her bedroom for some much-needed rest.


	3. Prologue Day 1 Rin Aberrations

**Prologue — Day 1: Rin — Aberrations**

Rin overslept.

She had difficulty waking up in the morning on the best of days, let alone when she'd stayed up to 2 AM performing complex magical rituals. On top of that, her prana supply being sapped to power her two Servants made her feel like she was wearing lead weights. Thus, by the time she finally rolled out of bed, she was already late for school.

After giving the matter a moment's thought, Rin decided that she'd skip classes for the day. Preparing for the Holy Grail War was more important. Archer was a much more tactical class than Saber, relying on making use of terrain advantage and striking the enemy from a distance. It would therefore probably be a good idea for her Servants to get a sense of the city's layout before engaging in battle.

Come to think of it, where were her Archers?

She found Red Archer in the kitchen making tea. It tasted surprisingly good; Red Archer must have had a talent for it when he was alive. It seemed that, despite having lost his memory, he still retained his practical skills.

Black Archer showed up a short time later. When Rin asked where she'd been, she responded flippantly.

"Procuring supplies." Homura said. "You don't have a problem with that, right?"

Rin had to stifle a sigh. Archer-class Servants tended to be highly independent and were notoriously difficult for their Masters to control. However, still somewhat chastened from the time early that morning when she'd lost control of her temper and effectively wasted one of her three precious Command Spells, Rin decided not to make an issue out of it.

"What would you need supplies for?" Rin asked. "Servants don't need to eat; and I thought they were summoned with any equipment they needed."

Rin paused, and gave the matter some thought.

"Well, except maybe Caster, if it specializes in a type of magic that requires material components that it needs to gather after being summoned. But since you're Archer, you should already have your bow, arrows, and any other Noble Phantasms you might happen to possess — everything you need to fight."

"I've always believed in making use of whatever is available." Homura said. "For instance, you should take this."

A small, circular shield appeared on Homura's left forearm. Reaching behind it, she withdrew a slender 9 mm handgun, which she placed on the table in front of Rin.

"Where did you get that?" Rin asked.

"A police station." Homura said. "You should probably practice with it until you're comfortable with the recoil before attempting to use it in actual combat."

"Hold on." Rin said. "Servants are spiritual beings, right? I didn't think a material weapon like a gun would do anything against them."

"It wouldn't." Homura agreed. "However, it should prove effective enough against their Masters."

Rin's stomach turned at the thought. Of course, as a magus, she understood that there were times when it was necessary to take the life of her enemy. However, duels between magi were carried out with magecraft. They were honorable contests of strength and skill between people who had devoted their lives to the study, refinement, and mastery of advanced and artful techniques. To simply pull out a firearm and gun your opponent down like a common criminal...

"You want me to... shoot enemy Masters?" she repeated uncertainly.

"I find the use of conventional firearms often takes magi off-guard." Homura said. "Magi eschew technology, and expect any magus called by the Grail to hold a similar stance. They are therefore unprepared to defend against a magus willing to employ modern weapons against them."

Rin shook her head. She was fighting in this War to redeem the Tohsaka family name, not sully it further. She was not some third-rate magus of a no-name family who had to resort to dirty tricks in order to win. She was the heir of the Tohsakas, and she would conduct herself with the appropriate dignity.

"You keep it." she said. "I'm not going to use it."

Homura frowned at her.

"I did not expect my Master to be squeamish about killing." the Black Archer said. "This is the Holy Grail War. Surely you know it might become necessary at some point to eliminate an enemy Master with your own hands.

"I know." Rin said. "And I am prepared. But not in a way like this. If I do have to engage in direct combat with an enemy Master, I'll use a weapon I'm comfortable with — like this."

Rin placed a short-bladed dagger on the table.

"This is my Azoth Dagger." Rin explained. "I inherited it from my father after his death during the previous War. A dagger like this is a sign that one has graduated from apprenticeship and become a true magus. It's something precious to me — and something far more proper for use in a contest between Masters."

"A weapon with sentimental value, then." Homura said. "I can understand your attachment to it. However, realistically speaking, a knife is no substitute for a gun."

"It's not just a knife." Rin said indignantly. "It's also a wand for amplifying magic energy. I've spent the past ten years charging it up with prana, so it should be plenty strong enough to use against any Master who opposes me. In fact, I bet it could do some serious damage to even a Servant, if it somehow came down to that."

"Nevertheless." Homura said. "Something like an Azoth Dagger is exactly the manner of weapon an enemy magus will expect you to engage them with. It is precisely because magi do not typically use firearms that having one could prove to be a decisive advantage should you be forced to engage in battle."

"Magi live their lives by follow a certain code of behavior." Rin said. "We have our own way of doing things. If I have to kill a Master, I will do so on my own terms. This discussion is over."

"Very well." Homura said, bowing her head. "I can't say I'm truly surprised. The very reticence and adherence to tradition that I hoped to take advantage of in the other magi is something you, as a magi yourself, would naturally also possess. I believe you're being foolish; but as you are my Master, I will respect your wishes."

She picked the gun back up. It seemed to vanish as she slid it back into the space behind her shield.

"Wishes..." Rin murmured. "That reminds me something I've been meaning to ask. Black Archer... and Red Archer, too... what are the wishes you desire the Holy Grail to fulfill?"

The two Servants glanced at each other in surprise.

"That is... a somewhat personal question." Homura finally said. "Because of your Command Spell, I will answer if you ask me to; however, does it really matter whether or not you know."

"It does." Rin said. "If I'm going to be fighting with you, I need to know what you're fighting for. As much as I want to win the Grail, I definitely won't allow an evil or improper wish to made upon it. So, before we begin our fight, I'd like you two to tell me what you'd use its power to wish for."

"Hmm." Red Archer said whimsically. "If I had to pick, I guess I'd say 'world peace'. That's a worthy goal, don't you think?"

"Be serious!" Rin said. "We're supposed to be a team. If I can't know your names, I should at least know what you're fighting for."

"In all honesty, then." Red Archer said, his tone abruptly serious. "The truth is, I don't have any wish for the Grail. While there is a wish I would like granted, it is one that I will bring about with my own hands. I'll achieve without the Grail's help."

"What about you, Black Archer?" Rin asked.

"I don't have any need for the Grail, either." Black Archer said. "I have only a single wish, and it has already been promised that it will eventually come true. In any case, I don't trust anything as suspicious-sounding as an omnipotent wish-granting device. Anything that promises it can make any wish come true is almost certainly deceiving you."

"That's... rather strange." Rin said. "You're fighting as my Servants, and yet neither of you want the Grail?"

"When a Master performs a summoning without an artifact tied to a particular Servant, they often end up with one who matches their personality." Red Archer said. "Could it be that you don't have any real desire for the Grail either?"

"It's true that there's no particular wish I want granted." Rin said. "But that doesn't mean I'm not interested in getting the Grail, okay? I need it to restore the Tohsaka family name. My father was one of the Masters in the previous war, but he was defeated. I'm his successor, the only one who can redeem the Tohsaka family honor. So I'll definitely win this war."

"In other words, you're just fighting out of hollow egotism." Black Archer said. "How unseemly."

"Shut up!" Rin said. "That's not it at all — and it's beside the point! The Grail has rules for selecting the Masters and Servants. Since the three families of Einzbern, Tohsaka, and Makiri were responsible for the creation of the Grail, it will always select magi from them to participate in the war if any are available. I'm a magus of the Tohsaka family, so it's only natural that I'd be chosen as a Master, even if I don't have a specific wish in mind. But with regards to the Servants, something is definitely wrong. Servants are supposed to fight in order to have their wishes granted — so why is the Grail summoning Servants who have no desire for it? And why has it summoned two Archers and two Lancers when there's only supposed to be one Servant of each class?"

The two Archers looked at each other, then shrugged.

"I wouldn't know." Black Archer said.

"Beats me." Red Archer said.

Rin let out a long groan.

"I guess there's no other choice." she said. "I'm going to have to tell that shitty fake priest."

The Church had an unusual relationship with the Holy Grail War. They had no interest in obtaining the Holy Grail for themselves — despite its name, the object at the center of the ritual was not the cup that had received the blood of the Christ; and because they were concerned with spiritual rather than worldly matters, the potential of having a wish granted held no allure for them. However, given the ancient and deep-seated antagonism between the Church and magi, the possibility that the Grail might be attained by a magus hostile to them and its power turned against them was a concern. They were therefore keen to observe the Masters who participated in the war. And as for the magi, they had need for an arbitrator who would ensure that all participants obeyed the rules. Since the Church was equally hostile towards all magi and didn't have ties to any of the families, it could be relied upon to be unbiased in its enforcement. Therefore, it had been decided that a priest from the Church would be the supervisor of the Grail War.

The current supervisor was a man named Kirie Kotomine. She should really report to the irregularities she'd observed to him. Actually, to be technical, she should have contacted him anyway once she'd completed the summoning ritual to let him know that she would be one of the Masters participating in this war. The problem was...

"I really hate that guy." Rin said, mostly to herself.

Kotomine had once been apprenticed to her father. After the last War, it had been he who had informed Rin of her father's death, and who had presented her with the Azoth Dagger that he had willed to her. He had also acted as her guardian over the intervening ten years. Nevertheless, Rin had no doubt that he was completely impartial; if her life was endangered during the war, he'd let her die without a second thought. That was the kind of man Kirie Kotomine was.

"Well, I'd really rather put that off as long as possible." Rin confessed to her Servants. "For now, I'd like to show you around the city so you can get a feel for the landscape."

"Of course." Red Archer said. "Make no mistake; though I do not desire a wish from the Holy Grail, I will honor my vow to fight as your Servant for the duration of this War."

"I might as well fight, seeing as I did answer your summons." Black Archer agreed. "Well, since there's nothing in it for me even if I win, I can't promise I'll give it my full effort. Maybe 60 percent. 75, if you're lucky."

"Unbelievable." Rin said. "And you call yourself a hero."

"If I might humbly remind you, you are the one who summoned me." Black Archer said. "Therefore, it stands to reason that I am, if not as much of a hero as you want, as much of a hero as you deserve."

"You..." Rin began, then stopped. "Well, as long as you're willing to fight for me. You are willing to do at least that much, right?"

"I don't have any particular desire to win the Grail... but I do not like to lose." Black Archer admitted. "There's that motivating me, at least."

"And I'm not here to fight for the Grail, but I do have my own reasons for fighting." Red Archer said. "So don't count me out of this War just yet."

"Glad to hear it." Rin said. "Now, there's a bridge nearby that gives a good vantage point over the city. I think it might be useful for spotting any other Servants that might be around. If I recall correctly, Archers don't have the ability to sense enemies at a distance like Caster, but you do have excellent eyesight — so if two Servants got into a battle, it would be easy for you to see the light show and identify their location..."

Rin walked out of her house and onto the streets of Fuyuki, her Servants following behind her.


	4. Prologue Day 1 Rin White Lancer Girl

**Prologue — Day 1: Rin — White Lancer Girl**

Rin spent most of the day showing her two Servants around Fuyuki City.

Her Archers were insolent, insubordinate, and had rather twisted senses of humor. Yet somehow, the more she talked to them, the more Rin found herself liking them. Though she had initially planned to spend the time planning her strategy for fighting the other Masters and Servants, they somehow ended up talking about all sorts of other topics. And though she often found herself arguing or trading insults with her Servants, the experience was strangely enjoyable.

Perhaps she hadn't messed up the summoning as badly as she'd initially thought. She might not have gotten Saber like she wanted, but it seemed she'd received Servants who were well-suited to her personality.

In fact, Rin ended up having such a good time that she completely lost track of the time. It wasn't until her Servants pointed it out to her that she noticed it was already evening. With the sun beginning to sink low in the sky, it was starting to become dangerous. Rin was still getting used to bearing the prana burden of her two Servants; she didn't want to get into a fight just yet. But if other Masters had already been chosen, nighttime was when they would start seeking each other out for battles.

One of the rules of the Holy Grail War was that the participants were not allowed to let any ordinary humans witness it. This was normally enforced by killing any civilians who happened to see the War. However, killing large numbers of civilians would in itself attract attention, so there was an informal understanding among Masters that battles should take place at night. Thus, while Rin had felt relatively safe walking in the open with her Servants during the day, the darkening sky served as a signal that she should retreat back to the safety of her house.

Of course, fights between Servants did sometimes happen during the day; but in those cases the Masters tried to at least choose an isolated location for the confrontation. A few civilian deaths here and there was probably inevitable, but the Masters would tread carefully lest they cause too big of a mess. The last War had turned into an absolute disaster in the end: on the final day, the conflict had resulted in a massive fire sweeping through the city and killing hundreds of people. A couple of Masters had survived; but with their Servants gone, they'd been unable to claim the Grail.

Rin's father hadn't been one of the Masters who caused the fire. He'd been eliminated from the War before that day. That, at least, was something Rin could take a small measure of comfort in.

After the catastrophic Fourth War, it seemed certain that the Fifth would be supervised far more strictly. Any Master who seemed to be causing too many problems would doubtless incur the wrath of Kirie Kotomine. As the overseer of the War, the bastard of a priest had certain means for enforcing his rulings. At best, he might decide to hand out some free Command Spells to the other Masters to give them an advantage over the offending party. At worst... well, Kotomine was a former Executor for the Church's Burial Agency. He had some experience at killing magi. And if he deemed one of the Masters unfit to possess the Grail, he would no doubt take any necessary measures to enforce his judgement.

Recently, a serial killer had claimed a number of victims in Fuyuki. It had now been at least two months since the beginning of the killing spree, and the police still had no leads in the investigation. While this was certainly unfortunate for the community, it might actually be a good thing as far as the War went. Since many people were now afraid to go out at night, the chances of there being any witnesses to a battle between Masters was much lower. The streets Rin now walked were completely deserted.

Rin bit her lip, wishing that she'd been more aware of the time. She wasn't afraid of any mere serial killer — any ordinary human, no matter how dangerous, would be utterly helpless against the strength of a Servant — but the lack of any witnesses meant that if she did encounter another Master, there would be nothing to prevent them from attacking.

"Someone's approaching." Red Archer said.

Rin tensed. Since not many ordinary people were out, the chance of it being an enemy Master was high. But if Rin revealed her Servants and it did turn out to be an innocent civilian, Rin would have to kill them to maintain the secrecy of the War. Better to be certain first.

"Remain in spiritual form unless I'm attacked or I give you an order." Rin instructed.

Her eyesight was much weaker than that of an Archer-class Servant, but as she walked beneath a street lamp, the approaching person was finally coming into sight.

The person was a teenage girl, about Rin's age. She wore a refined and elegant long blue dress. Her hair was a golden blonde, and had been styled into magnificent coils that stretched almost to her waist.

To her surprise, Rin realized that she recognized the girl.

"Luvia!?" Rin blurted out.

Luviagelita Edelfelt was a student at the London Clock Tower, headquarters of the Magus Association. When Rin had last visited the Clock Tower, to prepare to enrollment there upon her graduation from high school, the two had met and become instant enemies. Part of the reason was historical: during the Third Grail War, the Edelfelts had managed to summon Saber, the most powerful Servant. And yet, despite this advantage, they'd been defeated by the Tohsaka Master. They'd then failed to be selected to participate at all in the Fourth Grail War. The Edelfelts had never forgiven the Tohsaka family for this humiliation.

The rest of the reasons for Rin's dislike of her were personal. Luvia was incredibly rich and loved to flaunt her wealth. While the Tohsaka family was wealthy in theory, Rin's magic required the use of many precious gemstones, meaning she often had little spending money actually on hand. Then there was her personality. Luvia acted aristocratic and graceful towards other people, but when Rin was around she showed her true colors: a competitive, perfectionist, cold-hearted bitch.

"My, my." Luvia said. "If it isn't Rin Tohsaka."

"What are you doing here, Luvia?" Rin demanded. "The Fuyuki territory is under Tohsaka administration!"

"As it so happens, I am here on the direct orders of none other than Lord El-Melloi II himself!" Luvia announced haughtily.

She raised a scroll which bore the El-Melloi seal. Lord El-Melloi II was a highly distinguished professor at the Clock Tower; more significantly, he was one of only two surviving Masters who remained from the Fourth War. His Servant had been defeated just hours before the fire, and he had thus barely escaped the flames. Since then, he had become both extremely popular and highly respected. His word carried a lot of weight; if it was on his orders, then even an Edelfelt intrusion into Tohsaka territory could be tolerated.

"And what's so important that he had to send you all the way from London?" Rin asked.

"Well, since you're walking around at night, you might not be aware; but there's a serial killer in Fuyuki." Luvia began.

"I'm aware." Rin scowled.

"After some investigation, it appears that the murders were committed using magecraft." Luvia continued. "With the Grail War having come again so soon, the presence of a serial-killer magus in Fuyuki is naturally of great concern to him."

Rin understood. Famously, one of the opposing Masters who fought in the Fourth War had been a serial killer. As a child, Rin had actually met the insane Master face-to-face, though mercifully only briefly. The thought of a someone so sick and twisted gaining the unlimited power of the Grail was a nightmare. Of course Lord El-Melloi II, who had actually faced the Master and his Servant in battle, would want to investigate any possibility that such a circumstance might repeat itself.

"So, he sent me to find the culprit." Luvia concluded.

"I administrate this land." Rin said. "Why wasn't I asked to perform the investigation?"

"If you'd been keeping up with the news, you'd know that all of the victims were foreigners — to be specific, foreigners with blonde hair and blue eyes." Luvia fingered one of her golden curls. "The Association figures that I'd make the perfect bait to draw the killer's attention. And when he does show his face — wham! I'll give him a taste of Lancashire-style martial combat!"

"Well, good for you." Rin sighed. "I'm actually a bit relieved. When I saw you, my first thought was that you'd come as a participant in the Grail War."

Luvia's mouth stretched into a wicked smile.

"Why, it's funny you should mention that, Rin." Luvia said gleefully. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Luvia took a step to the side, and a female figure materialized behind her. She wore a form-fitting, single-piece white body suit with the number "00" written above her sternum. Her skin was so pale it was almost as white as her suit, and her red eyes gave her an albino-like appearance. Her short hair was an unusual light blue color.

What drew Rin's attention the most, however, was the weapon she held.

It was a massive lance, blood red in color, which split into two tines at one end. Despite it being as long as she was tall, the girl seemed to hold the lance without difficulty, as though it weighed nothing in her hands. Such a weapon could only be a Noble Phantasm. Which meant...

"A Servant!?" Rin said.

"That's right!" Luvia said. "Rin, allow me to introduce you to Servant Lancer. Lancer, Rin."

The slender Servant gave no response, but simply stared at Rin.

"You were chosen by the Grail?" Rin asked. "_You!?_"

"There's no need to sound so surprised." Luvia said. "The Edelfelt family has participated in the Grail War in the past, so my selection shouldn't be too unbelievable."

"But you just told me you were sent here by Lord El-Melloi II!" Rin protested. "You didn't mention anything about receiving Command Spells!"

"Well... as to that." Luvia said. "Actually, I wasn't a Master when I left London. But I had only just arrived here in Fuyuki when I ran into her."

Luvia gestured at her Lancer.

"Lancer told me that something had gone wrong with her summoning and that she had failed to make a contract with the Master who had called her." Luvia continued. "Seeing that I was an eligible magus, she asked me to become her Master instead. I entered into a contract with her, and the Grail acknowledged me as a Master and granted me Command Spells."

She smiled with smug satisfaction.

"You mean you wandered into town for completely unrelated reasons and a Servant just happened to fall into your lap!?" Rin raged. "That is so completely unfair! It's ridiculous! I should report you to the supervisor for this!"

Luvia ignored her well-reasoned and completely legitimate objections.

"Since you're a Tohsaka magus, that means you've been chosen as a Master, right?" Luvia said. "So you can hardly complain when I give you a good beating. Better call your Servant if you want to live!"

"Oh, I'll do you one better than that." Rin said. "Archers! Show yourselves!"

Red Archer and Black Archer shifted into their physical forms, materializing on either side of Rin. Luvia's eyes widened as she realized the implications.

"That's right." Rin said gleefully. "Not one, but _two_ Archers — and they're both mine."

"You mean you somehow cheated the Grail and managed to summon not one but two Servants!?" Luvia raged. "That is so completely unfair! It's ridiculous! I should report you to the supervisor for this!"

Rin ignored her senseless tirade.

"If you want to fight me, go ahead." Rin said. "But don't think I'll go easy on you — quite the opposite, in fact."

Luvia struggled to compose herself.

"Well, if you want to be technical about it, my first duty here in Fuyuki is to track down the serial killer." Luvia said. "My obligation to Lord El-Melloi II comes first; it's only after I've completed that assignment that I'll be free to pursue the Grail for myself."

"So, basically, you're saying that despite contracting a Servant, you have no intention of participating in the War yet?" Rin asked.

"I'll fight." Luvia said. "And I'll win. It is my responsibility as the successor to the Edelfelt family to fulfill my obligations, so I'm going to finish the job I was given and hunt down this serial killer magus. But make no mistake: once that is done, I'll see to it that the Edelfelts' loss to the Tohsakas seventy years ago is avenged."

Luvia turned on her heel and strode stiffly away. Her Servant followed after her, keeping one eye on Rin in case she tried launching a surprise attack from behind. But Rin had no intention of fighting at the moment; the surprise confrontation with Luvia had left her feeling drained emotionally as well as physically, and her only desire now was to get back to the safety of her own house and wait out the night.

Her two Archers by her side, Rin continued on her way home, wondering if this Holy Grail War could get any stranger.


	5. Prologue Day 2 Rin First Battle

**Prologue — Day 2: Rin** **— First Battle**

By the second day after summoning her Servants, Rin was getting used to bearing the burden of supplying them with prana, and felt strong enough to go back to school.

Though she had both of her Servants accompanying her in spiritual form for safety, Rin didn't expect to be in any real danger at school. There was far too many ordinary humans around during the school day; no respectable magus would expose themself before so many witnesses. Thus, Rin could keep her life as a highschool student and her life as a magus separate — for the most part.

There was one thing related to the War that she had to do.

The summoning ritual to manifest the Holy Grail had been designed by three great families of magi: the Einzberns, the Tohsakas, and the Makiris. Because of this, when choosing the seven Masters, the Grail always picked one member of each family to compete. In the Fourth War, the chosen Tohsaka had been her father; in this war, it was Rin. An Einzbern Master had likewise doubtless also been selected by the Grail. With the Makiris, however, there were special circumstances.

To put it simply, the old Makiri family line — which had since changed its name to Matou — was dying out. The family's magic had been steadily declining over the past 250 years. During the previous War, the only magus available to be chosen by the Grail had been distinctly third-rate. Now that he was dead, the situation was even more dire. The current heir to the Matou family, Shinji, had no magic circuits at all. In other words, he was not a magus, but an ordinary human like any other, and not eligible to be chosen by the Grail. The only remaining magus in the Matou family was Shinji's grandfather, Zouken. But Zouken was in no condition to participate in the War — word had it that his health was fading, and he was known to be bedridden for months at a time. It was possible that for the first time since the inception of the Grail War, the family would be passed over entirely.

However, there was also another possibility. Shortly before the Fourth War, Zouken had decided to try refreshing the fading bloodline by adopting a child from another magus family. That girl, Sakura Matou, was not a blood descendant of the old Makiri line; but as she was now effectively the chosen successor to the Matou magecraft, there was a possibility that the Holy Grail might choose her to represent the Matou family. Rin needed to investigate that possibility as soon as possible.

Determining whether or not Sakura was a Master was easy enough. Each Master chosen by the Holy Grail received three Command Spells, which appeared as red marks on their body: usually on the back of one of their hands, though sometimes in a different location. Masters from the three great families were always chosen fairly quickly; thus, since Rin had received her Command Spells by now, it was likely that Sakura had, too. Conversely, if Sakura still hadn't gotten any Command Spells this close to the start of the War, it probably meant that the Grail wasn't going to choose her. Rin just had to see if any Command Spells had appeared or not.

Rin's interactions with Sakura were always somewhat awkward, due to their past history. Though Sakura always acted shy and demure, sometimes she looked at Rin with something that may have been accusation in her eyes. It wasn't as if Rin had any regrets; as someone who lived her life in accordance with the code followed by the magi, everything that had happened in the past was right and proper. And yet, for some reason, Rin had difficulty looking Sakura in the eye when speaking to her. Why could that be? Rin had known she was have to throw away all of her foolish sentimentalism in order to pursue to path of a magus... so why did seeing the look in Sakura's eyes still pain her?

Fortunately, it didn't take long for Rin to confirm that Sakura didn't have any Command Spels; the Grail hadn't chosen her as a Master. That was a big a relief. However, Rin didn't have time to savor that good news, as another problem immediately reared its head.

"Rin." Red Archer said. "There's a Servant in the immediate vicinity."

"Here, at the school?" Rin asked. "What's it doing?"

"It is currently in spiritual form." Red Archer said. "It seems to be scouting the area. This should go without saying, but just to make sure you understand the situation: detecting the presence of Servants isn't one of my strong points. Therefore, if it's close enough for me to sense it, then it's almost certainly also sensed me. It may even have identified you as my Master."

"But it hasn't shown itself." Rin said. "That means it's following the rules of the Grail War. It won't attack here at school, not when I'm surrounded by witnesses."

"However, you will only be safe until the school day ends." Black Archer pointed out. "At that time, the other students will all go home, and it will be free to strike."

"And if I try to go home, it'll just follow me." Rin said. "Not only will I still have to fight it, but it'll learn where I live as well."

"What will you do, then?" Black Archer asked.

"What else?" Rin asked. "We fight. I'll wait in the courtyard after school. Once everyone else has left, the Servant should show itself, and we can settle things."

"Pretty bold of you." Red Archer commented.

"It shouldn't be a problem." Rin said. "With the two of you working together, you should be able to win without difficulty even if the Servant is a Saber."

"With respect, my Master, I would refrain from making such assumptions." Black Archer said. "You yourself have somehow managed to contract with two Servants — so what makes you assume that other Masters haven't also done the same?"

Damn. Rin actually hadn't thought about that. She'd just been assuming that receiving two Archers was a result of the mistake she made when performing the summoning. But thinking about it logically, summoning two Servants seemed like something that would be impossible even for a highly accomplished magus who was actively trying — let alone something a young magus like her could do by mistake. It was actually more likely this anomaly was not an isolated event of Rin's making, but a fundamental change in the nature of the War. It was possible, for instance, after 250 years of Wars without a victor, the Grail was growing impatient to fulfill its function. Giving each Master two Servants to command instead of one might be its way of trying to force a resolution. This hypothesis would also explain why the Grail had appeared after only ten years this time instead of the usual sixty.

It wasn't much more than a wild guess; but the important thing was, the possibility that other Masters had also received multiple Servants couldn't be denied.

"Can you sense any other Servants in the area?" Rin asked.

"No." Black Archer said. "But as my counterpart pointed out, we aren't very well suited for detecting Servants in spiritual form. Another Servant would only have to hang back a short distance to escape our senses."

"If you commit both of us to battle against the one Servant we have identified, then you would be left defenseless against a surprise attack from another." Red Archer agreed. "You should hold one of us back for protection."

"Alright." Rin said. "When the Servant shows itself, Black Archer will manifest and confront it. Red Archer will remain by my side in spiritual form to protect me. ...Do you think you can manage to fight alone, Homura?"

"That depends on the strength of the enemy Servant, of course." Black Archer said. "But I have no objection to this course of action. If I do appear to be overmatched, then retreat is always an option; it is not uncommon for Servants to skirmish in an attempt to evaluate each others' skills and identify their Noble Phantasms before committing to a decisive battle. And if you wished me to die fighting the enemy Servant in order to provide cover for your own escape, that would also be acceptable; that is part of what it means to be a Servant."

"Though winning would be preferable, I think." Red Archer commented.

"True." Black Archer said, giving a thin smile. "It's not much fun to pick a fight you know you'll lose."

"Well, I trust in your abilities." Rin said. "Your manners may be poor, but I get the sense that you take fighting seriously. So try not to let me down, okay."

Their plan decided, Rin swallowed her anxiety and put on a stern face. It wouldn't do to show fear or hesitation — either to the enemy or to her own Servants. As a Master in the Holy Grail War, she had to conduct herself with the dignity appropriate to a magus. So for the rest of the day, she threw herself into her schoolwork with the utmost concentration, deliberately ignoring the lingering presence of the nearby Servant. And when the final bell rang, she calmly stood up and walked directly out to the courtyard, where she stood beneath a tree and waited as the milling crowd of students slowly dispersed.

When the last of the students and teachers had finally departed, the enemy Servant finally made his appearance. His physical body materialized in the center of the courtyard, facing Rin but at a respectful enough distance to indicate that he didn't intend to launch an immediate surprise attack of the type favored by Servant Assassin. He was a male with short-cropped blue hair who wore a tight blue bodysuit. He held a long, gleaming red spear loosely in one hand.

"Yo." the Servant said, giving a cheerful grin and a slight wave.

Based on his weapon, the Servant appeared to be of the Lancer class. But, Luvia's Servant had been a Lancer. So there really were two Lancers in this War, just as there were two Archers? And was Luvia also this Servant's Master? No, that didn't track — Luvia had been surprised to see that Rin had two Servants. Luvia had also said that her Lancer hadn't had a Master when they first met... perhaps a Master had summoned two Lancers and then been eliminated, leaving both Servants to make contracts with different Masters. Or maybe the Master who had summoned both Lancers had done as Red Archer had suggested she do: only keep a contract with one in order to conserve prana.

Rin shook her head in frustration. There were simply too many possibilities to consider, and too few facts to make a reasoned deduction.

The enemy Servant, oblivious to Rin's brainstorming, continued chatting in a cheery manner.

"I have to say, I'm pleased that you didn't try to run." Lancer continued. "Then I'd have been stuck tailing you and reporting information back to my Master. Well, strategy like that has its place, but a straight-up fight is much more my style. So, now that I've presented myself, why don't you show me who I'll be fighting?"

"I will be your opponent." Black Archer said.

She manifested herself across the courtyard from Lancer, to take advantage of her class's superior range. She held an unusually shaped black bow at the ready, but had no arrow notched an didn't appear to be wearing a quiver.

"Archer, right?" Lancer asked, grinning. "Excellent. Be sure to come at me with everything you've got, okay? I'd take it as an insult if you held back at all."

He swung his spear around in an fancy pattern and then moved it to a guard position.

"Quite the enthusiastic opponent, I see." Black Archer said cooly. "But if a no-holds-barred battle was what you wanted, you should have sought out Berserker. We Archers tend to be a bit more tactical in our thinking. So try not to take offence if I fight intelligently instead of showboating."

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm going to try and win this War on behalf of my Master." Lancer said. "But as for me, the opportunity to meet other heroic spirits in battle is the fulfillment of my greatest desire. I don't need the Holy Grail; just by being given the opportunity to fight for it, my wish has already been granted. So as long as I'm here, I'm going to have as much fun as possible!"

"You too!?" Rin shouted from the sidelines. "Is there any Servant in this War who actually does want the Grail, or is answering us magi nothing but charity work to the lot of you?"

Lancer flashed her a grin.

"Well, if I do win the Grail, I'm sure I'll think of something." he said. "But I didn't come here to chat. Show me what you've got, Archer!"

"As you wish, then." Black Archer said.

She drew back the string on her black bow. As she did, prana began to gather. The magical energy coalesced to form a shining purple arrow. When she released the string, there was a sharp sound and the arrow shot towards Lancer with such speed that it seemed to turn into a beam of light.

But although the arrow was too fast for Rin's eyes to follow, an attack of that caliber was nothing to Lancer. The moment Homura had fired her bow, his body was already in motion, swinging his red lance around in a graceful arc. The tip of the crimson spear swatted the arrow out of the air, scattering it into harmless flecks of light.

Homura began to pull and release her bow again and again, with a speed that no merely human archer could ever attain. Because she didn't need to take time to reload, she was able to launch arrows one after another without the slightest pause. Furthermore, as attacks composed purely of magical energy, her prana arrows weren't confined to the same limited arcs that material arrows were forced to follow. Their paths through the air bent and curved like guided missiles, weaving erratically across the courtyard and striking from all different directions.

And Lancer intercepted every single one of them.

He swung the weapon around himself with such fluidity that he almost seemed to be dancing. One would expect such a lengthy weapon as his lance to be heavy and encumbering; instead, it acted like an extension of his body. It cut through the air without resistance and changed direction with an ease that suggested it was as light as a feather, and it was somehow always in exactly the right place to intercept Homura's arrows. No matter how quickly she fired them, Lancer unerringly cut them down with the tip of his weapon. Not once did he dodge, and not once did he miss. Rin could not help but be in awe of his skill. This warrior truly was the epic spirit of the lance.

Homura finally ceased her barrage. Despite having expended more magical energy in the. past few moments of combat than Rin had been able to store up in her jewels over the past ten years, she did not appear even slightly tired. In fact, Rin got the sense that she hadn't even begun fighting seriously yet. This opening salvo had been nothing more than a test to gauge the extent of Lancer's skill.

"I see." Homura said calmly. "Protection From Arrows. How inconvenient."

Rin winced at those words. Each class of Servant had a set of special abilities, called class skills. The only Lancer class skill was Magic Resistance. That hadn't worried Rin at all; while it meant her magic probably wouldn't have any effect on Lancer, she'd given up on directly fighting any Servant when she'd decided to swallow her best jewels instead of saving them for use in battle. Furthermore, her Servants were both Archers, a class which generally didn't use much magic; therefore, she'd thought this was a favorable match. However, Servants also had a set of special abilities related to the heroic deeds they'd performed in life, called personal skills. Protection From Arrows was one such skill; and, as the name implied, it was one of the worst possible abilities that an Archer could face. It denoted the exceptional skill of being able to block any ranged attack by predicting the projectile's path. Such an ability probably wouldn't work against a Noble Phantasm, but any ordinary attack would be avoided or intercepted without fail.

"And that's why I warned you not to hold back." Lancer said. "But you have been, right? You're of the Archer class, and yet that bow you're using feels distinctly third-rate. I don't think it's your primary weapon; it's just a stand-in you're using to hide your true Noble Phantasm. Am I right?"

"Please don't insult my bow; it has sentimental value." Homura said. "But your speculation is correct. While your Noble Phantasm is obviously that lance you've been showing off for everyone to see, you still don't have the slightest clue what mine is. In fact, I might not even be an Archer at all. Maybe I'm concealing a Saber's sword or a Caster's staff. Really, or all you know, my Noble Phantasm could even be a golf club."

"A gold club?" Lancer chuckled. "Well, I've heard that there are some forbidden Servant classes beyond the usual seven that are used in the War — weird things like Saver, Monster, Avenger, and Temptress — but somehow, I just can't picture a Servant Golfer."

"Feel free to believe whatever you wish." Homura said.

"I believe it's about time to be going on the offensive." Lancer said, swinging his lance into an aggressive position. "I let you have the first shot out of respect for your Master's bravery in facing me, but now it's my turn to attack. And since I'll be using my Noble Phantasm, I suggest you get serious as well."

"As you wish." Homura said. "But don't complain when I win."

She raised her left arm and materialized the small, circular shield from which she'd been able to withdraw and later return a handgun the previous day. For a moment, Rin had an absurd mental image of Homura countering Lancer's fancy technique with his spear by simply pulling out the gun and shooting him in the head, like something straight out of _Indiana Jones_. But a moment's logical thought quickly disabused her of that fanciful notion; a conventional weapon like a gun simply couldn't do any damage to a spiritual being like a Servant. More likely, she simply intended to use it as a shield against Lancer's attacks. The shield looked pitifully small, as though it could be cracked in half by a single blow of Lancer's spear... but as it had already shown some magic power in creating what appeared to be a pocket dimension for Homura to store stolen guns in, there was no telling what other magic might be strengthening it and increasing its defensive capabilities. And if it was more than a mere piece of magically enhanced equipment — if it was, in fact, a true Noble Phantasm — then it might indeed be capable of blocking attacks made by a Servant wielding a Noble Phantasm.

"Here I come, Archer!" Lancer said with a feral grin.

"Then here you die, Lancer!" Black Archer said

Both Servants began pulling in massive amounts of prana. Rin almost staggered as she felt her body's magical circuits strain to provide Black Archer with the necessary amount of energy. There was no doubt in her mind: this battle would be settled by a class between Noble Phantasms. The Servant with the superior Phantasm would survive; the Servant with the inferior Phantasm would surely be destroyed.

The Servants faced each other. Lancer, pointing his blood-red lance towards Homura's heart. Homura, shield-arm extended, her free hand gripping the edge of the shield. So much prana overflowed from the two Servants that the air around them seemed to crystallize. Homura couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watching the building storm with wide eyes. Two Noble Phantasms — Divine Mysteries made manifest, Conceptual Weapons embodying the heroic legends of the epic spirits who wielded them — were about to clash. The waves of pleasure and killing intent radiating from Lancer; the cold determination emanating from Homura; the thick mass of solidified prana between them... At this point, nothing could possibly interrupt the pending strike. Nothing except, perhaps, the sudden appearance of someone who they'd all somehow overlooked.

"Stop!" someone yelled from nearby.

Rin, Homura, and Lancer all immediately turned their heads towards the source of the voice.

The school should have been empty by now, but a male student was now running into the courtyard. Rather than trying to run as far away as possible as fast as he possibly could like one would expect an ordinary, sane highschool student witnessing Servants fighting to do, the student was actually running towards the Servants, almost as though he intended to get between them.

With equal parts fear, anger, and contempt, Rin realized that she recognized this boy. Shirou Emiya. He was a student at the school; and while he and Rin didn't have any classes together, she was well aware of him by reputation. He was known as a meddlesome do-gooder who felt the need to involve himself in everyone's personal problems out of a misguided desire to help. But even as big an idiot as him, if he happened to see two Servants about to unleash lethal blows on one another, should have at least enough common sense to not jump between them..

"Stop this right now!" Shirou yelled.

And yet, that appeared to be exactly what Shirou was doing.


	6. Prologue Day 2 Rin Faust Buckler

**Prologue — Day 2: Rin — Faust Buckler**

Rin watched with shock and incredulity as Shirou Emiya ran into the courtyard between the two fighting Servants.

It was insane. Anyone should have been able to tell that stepping between the two battling Servants would be instant death. The overflowing prana and killing intent was so great that even an ordinary human should have been able to feel it. And yet that stupid, stupid boy had dashed into the courtyard right between the two combatants. The only reason he wasn't dead already was because the Servants were just as surprised as Rin and had broken off their attacks to stare in shock at the interloper.

"Why are you trying to kill each other!?" Shirou demanded. "It's wrong! I won't allow it! I'll stop you myself if that's what it takes!"

"So naive..." Red Archer muttered behind Rin. "It makes me sick."

"What are you doing, idiot!?" Rin screamed at Shirou. "Do you have a death wish or something? Run for your life, moron!"

"Tohsaka?" Shirou glanced at her in confusion. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous."

"That's what I'm asking you!" Rin shrieked. "And if you know that it's dangerous, why haven't you run away?"

"I couldn't run!" Shirou said. "Not when someone's in danger!"

Was he actually concerned about her? Had he suicidally run out to challenge Lancer because he feared for her safety? Shirou didn't know that Rin was a magus, so he might have mistaken her for another bystander in danger from the Servants.

For a moment, Rin was strangely touched. Then she remembered that Shirou hadn't seemed to noticed her until after he'd already run out into the courtyard. The big idiot must have somehow mistaken Black Archer for a damsel in distress. Honestly! Even if she did happen to look like a young girl, how could anyone mistake a Servant for helpless?

"Aw, c'mon kid, why'd you have to go and do that?" Lancer asked, shaking his head. "And just when things were starting to get interesting. Ah, well. I'm going to have to ask that we suspend our fight for the moment, Archer. Rules are rules — witnesses to the Grail War must be eliminated!"

Shirou glared defiantly at the enemy Servant. He raised something gripped in his hands — it looked like it might have been a branch he'd picked up off the ground — and brandished it like a club.

It was a gesture so futile that it was almost sickly humorous. There was no way a wooden branch could withstand even a single blow from a weapon of legend, as Lancer's spear most assuredly was. He wouldn't even have to activate its properties as a Noble Phantasm; with his strength, he could cleave through both the branch and Shirou's body in a single swing. As the red lance swung down, Rin unconsciously closed her eyes, not wanting to see the end when it came.

But instead of the sickening squish of human flesh and bone being pulverized which she had expected, the sound that reached her ears was a sharp clang, as of metal striking against metal.

It was impossible. Shirou couldn't possibly have blocked Lancer's blow. And... a wooden branch wouldn't make such a sharp, metallic sound. Had another Servant intervened in the fight and blocked Lancer's attack?

Rin opened her eyes, and saw the impossible. The branch Shirou held was bent at one point, obviously from the force of blocking Lancer's spear, but still intact. Even as she watched with disbelieving eyes, Lancer swung a second time, and Shirou intercepted the blow. Sparks flew from the point of contact, as though the simple wooden branch had been forged from the finest steel. Shirou grunted under the impact of the blow, and the branch bent even further out of shape; but it did not break, and Shirou did not lose his grip on it.

"Hmm." Lancer said. "Not many humans would've been able to block those blows. I'm actually a little impressed, kid. So, I'll give you the respect of fighting you seriously."

Lancer abruptly dashed at Shirou. The Servant's speed was so great that it was as if he had been shot from a cannon. His lance, held low, skimmed the surface of the ground; as he bore down on Shirou, he swung it up at the last moment, striking the metallic branch from Shirou's hands and sending it flipping through the air. Lancer then planted one foot on the ground, pivoted, and delivered a vicious kick to Shirou's side. It was such a fierce blow that Rin was surprised it didn't cave in the side of his chest; instead, the impact lifted Shirou off the ground and sent him flying backwards. Shirou was launched in an arc across the courtyard and through the window of one of the first-floor classrooms; Rin winced at the sound of him crashing through the glass.

"We'll fight again later." Lancer told Homura. "Be sure to show me your full strength then, okay?"

Then he leapt after Shirou, briefly turning into spiritual form to pass through the classroom wall and out of Rin's sight.

For a moment, Rin didn't do anything. Why should she care if Lancer finished off that troublesome idiot? Shirou was just some kid from school. It wasn't as if he meant anything to her. And anyway, it was standard procedure for magi to eliminate witnesses. Really, even if Lancer hadn't gone after Shirou, she herself should have ordered Homura to kill him. That was the nature of the Holy Grail War.

So why was she trembling? And why had her hands clenched into fists?

"Damn it!" Rin said. "Damn it, damn it, damn it. Black Archer, go after him and save Emiya— I mean, that kid."

Homura looked at her blankly.

"What for?" she asked. "Lancer is correct in his judgement; the rules of the Holy Grail War require such unfortunate witnesses to be eliminated in order to preserve the secrecy of magecraft."

Rin didn't have time to persuade her Servant through argument. An ordinary human stood no chance whatsoever against a Servant in a fight; as soon as Lancer caught up to Shirou within the school, he would be killed. No, Shirou should already have been killed, when Lancer first struck at him — it was a miracle that he'd even lived this long. Hesitating for even a second more might cost him his life.

"By my Command Spell, I order you!" Rin shouted. "Protect Shirou Emiya!"

Homura blinked once in surprise, then dashed towards the building in compliance with her order.

Rin stared at the back of her hand. The second of the three red marks placed there by the Grail had now faded; only a single one remained. It was only the second day of the Holy Grail War, and already she had been reduced to a single, precious Command Seal. If she was ever forced to use it, she would lose her authority as a Master, and her fight for the Holy Grail would end. All because of that idiot.

"Technically, the first one was entirely your fault." Red Archer commented, as though reading her thoughts.

"Yeah, I know." muttered Rin. "I take it you don't approve either, Red Archer?"

"Of course not." Red Archer said. "You're making exactly the same kind of mistake as him, trying to save someone who can't be saved when you should be minding your own business. I expect that sort of thing out of _him_; but as a magus, I thought you would be better."

"Yeah." Rin said. "I really am an idiot, aren't I? All those years of training, and I'm still too soft."

There was nothing Rin could do but stand outside the school to see whether or not Homura would emerge alive — and if so, whether or not she had been in time to save Shirou Emiya.

===Interlude: Truce Lancer===

Lancer felt a slight thrill as he strode into the hallway of the school. Fighting a human wasn't nearly so interesting as fighting a Servant, but he never would have expected a mere human — let alone some scrawny kid — to block two strikes of his spear or to be in any condition to run after receiving the full force of one of his kicks. This boy might actually be worthy prey.

The kid was definitely resilient, Lancer would give him that. Instead of lying around dazed from his crash landing in the classroom, he appeared to have gotten up and started running quickly enough that he was out of sight by the time Lancer had arrived. Impressive, most impressive. Not that it would save him. Lancer focused on his hearing and picked out the boy's footsteps. He'd run up a stairwell and was now on the second floor.

Lancer shifted into his spiritual form and rose up through the ceiling. The boy was struggling to run down a hallway. He collapsed to his knees partway out of either pain or exhaustion, but then struggled back to his feet and forced himself on. Lancer sidled up behind the boy in spiritual form, then materialized himself and tapped the boy on the shoulder.

"Yo." he said.

The boy spun around so fast that he lost his footing and fell on his butt. He scrambled backwards until his back was pressed against a wall.

"Done running?" Lancer asked.

Animal fear showed in the boy's eyes. Intellectually, he must have known that it was impossible to escape from Lancer. But even so, his eyes kept darting back and forth, looking for an escape; his survival instinct compelling him to struggle against the inescapable death confronting him.

"Nothing personal, kid." Lancer explained. "It's just Magic Association rules. No one who witnesses Servants battling can be allowed to live. But, hey. It was pretty for a bit there, wasn't it?"

Lancer materialized his spear, allowed himself the slight indulgence of twirling it theatrically, then aimed the point at the boy's heart.

"It is a grave insult to turn your back on an opponent." a voice behind him said.

Of course, Lancer knew that Archer was behind him. His keen senses had detected the small Servant's presence in the hallway as soon as she had shifted from spiritual to material form. However, after engaging her in the courtyard, Lancer wasn't very concerned.

"As an Archer, you are best suited to combat in wide open spaces where you can fully utilize your range advantage." Lancer said casually, his back still turned. "However, even under such conditions, you were unable to best me. Now we are in a corridor; a narrow, confined space in which you lack any room to maneuver. There is no need to battle when the outcome is already obvious."

"You believe I would choose to attack you under disadvantageous conditions after losing to you in advantageous ones?" the Archer asked. "Then you think me stupid as well as weak. I don't care about that boy, but I will not permit you to insult me so."

Lancer sensed killing intent from behind him and immediately became more interested. When he'd fought Archer in courtyard, he'd been able to tell that she wasn't fighting him seriously; she'd only been trying to evaluate his abilities. Now, however, it seemed she was prepared to go all-out. He didn't know why pursuing this irrelevant young boy had brought about such a change in her, but he was grateful for it.

"Well, if you're finally ready to show me your true strength, then I can't very well turn down your challenge." Lancer said. "My Master only sent me out to try and identify some of the opposing Masters and gain intelligence about the abilities of their Servants... but I'm sure actually eliminating some of the competition won't draw any complaints."

He finally turned to face Archer. Despite the serious aura she was projecting, she still hadn't materialized anything resembling a weapon. Lancer clicked his tongue. Even at this point, preparing to engage him in battle to the death, she was still trying to conceal her trump card. It just wouldn't be any fun fighting against an opponent who was holding back, so it seemed Lancer would have to force her to take him seriously.

"But since you're the one challenging me this time, I won't let you get away with holding back." Lancer said. "I'm going to unleash my Noble Phantasm now. You'd better be prepared to do the same, because I promise you: if you don't stop me, you _will_ die."

That said, Lancer didn't waste any more time on words. He delved into his reserve of prana and let it flood into his demonic lance. Archer responded by shifting into a defensive position, as though intending to block his strike with the buckler on her arm. It really was unfortunate. The only chance she'd had to stop had been to hit him first and prevent his attack, because there was nothing in the world capable of blocking his lance once its curse had been activated.

All that was left to complete the Noble Phantasm's activation was to speak its name. Lancer thrust it forwards, and shouted the words that would cause it to kill without fail:

"Gae Bolg!"

At the same time, an intense burst of prana flared within Archer. As Lancer released his strike, she coldly intoned an invocation of her own:

"Faust Buckler."

Gae Bolg, the Piercing Lance of Death Thorns, which had never before failed to kill the adversary it was employed against, swept through empty air. The prana he had placed into it dissipated, the curse returning to quiescence, and Lancer was left to wonder how this could have happened.

Gae Bolg had not missed, nor had it been blocked. Rather, it had failed to activate. Lancer's Noble Phantasm was one that would "pierce the heart without fail". However, it could only be used if there was a heart to be pierced. The corridor in front of Lancer was empty. Because there was no opponent for Gae Bolg to be used against, the lance had remained inert in his hand.

Lancer turned around again, taking stock of his surroundings. The young boy had also vanished from the hallway. It was as if both of his targets had simply disappeared into thin air.

"Turning your back on me again, I see." Archer said. "Such bad form."

Lancer whirled around once more to see her standing exactly where she had been when he'd tried to unleash his Noble Phantasm. She nonchalantly flipped back her hair as Lancer stared at her in shock.

Archer couldn't have simply made herself invisible to his perception; even shifting into spiritual form shouldn't have allowed her to evade the curse of Gae Bolg. If she'd been anywhere at all within the hallway, the curse would've guided the lance into her heart whether Lancer was aware of her position or not. The only explanation was a Noble Phantasm that allowed instantaneous movement across a distance: Archer had gone somewhere out of range when the curse was activated, and returned once it was safe.

"I hope you're done underestimating me now." Archer said. "Of course, at this moment, I think you should be less concerned with me, and more concerned with what's at your feet."

Lancer glanced downwards just in time to get a glimpse of the M26 hand grenade sitting on the floor in front of him. It was standing on end, obviously having been placed down rather than thrown in order to bypass his Protection From Arrows ability, and the pin had been pulled. A moment later, the grenade detonated. The blast hit him at point-blank range, and the hallway disappeared in a ball of smoke and flame.

Lancer reverted to spiritual form and disengaged from combat, fleeing from the school. He hadn't been injured very much; as Servants were spiritual beings, conventional human weapons like guns and explosives weren't very effective against them. Rather, what concerned Lancer the most was that he didn't know the other Servant's identity. The reason a Noble Phantasm was reserved as a trump card was because, as the embodiment of a Heroic Spirit's legend, it was unique to each Servant. The cursed lance Gae Bolg was inseparably associated with the Gaelic hero Cu Chulainn; therefore, whenever Lancer called his weapon's name, he revealed his true identity to his opponent.

There was no doubt that the shield on Archer's arm was her Noble Phantasm. She had shouted its name, "Faust Buckler", in order to escape from being targeted by Gae Bolg. However, Lancer wasn't aware of any legendary artifact that had ever gone by that name. Even if she was a hero from some obscure land he had never heard of, or if she hadn't been born until hundreds of years after his death, the Holy Grail bestowed all Servants it summoned with certain basic knowledge. This included details about the age they had been summoned into, which was how he had recognized the grenade even though such weapons had not yet been invented during his life; and it also included details about the legends of the various Heroic Spirits whose souls were inducted into the Throne of Heroes. He should be able to identify any hero, no matter what country or time they were from, once he saw their unique Noble Phantasm. And yet... he had no idea who this Archer could be.

The whole reason his Master had sent him out on this mission was to gain information on the enemy Servants. Instead, he'd ended up giving away valuable information about himself without gaining any in return. That was what he got for putting pleasure before work; as much fun as challenging Archer had been, it was probably time to fall back and rethink his strategy before he dug himself any deeper.

In the meantime, he'd finish the job of tracking down and killing that boy who'd witnessed the fight. After all, it wouldn't do to leave a duty unfulfilled. If Archer thought the little vanishing act she'd pulled was enough to make him lose the trail, then this time it was her was underestimating him. He was an epic hero of the lance, but that wasn't the limit of his talents; he had also trained in runic magic under Scathach in the Land of Shadows, and his skill was such that he was also qualified to be summoned as Caster.

Lancer picked a stone off the ground and traced the rune Bekara on it. It wouldn't matter where the young boy fled; the search spell would quickly track him down. And then...

Well, the boy had impressed Lancer once. Maybe he had a few more tricks up his sleeve. Lancer was looking forward to finding out.


	7. Prologue Day 2 Rin Dual Saber

**Prologue — Day 2: Rin** **— Dual Saber**

Rin surveyed the damage to the school's hallway in disbelief. The grenade detonation had cratered the floor, scorched the walls, blown out several windows, and peppered the hallway with fragments of metnal.

"A grenade?" she asked. "You're an epic sprit, and you used a grenade? Does that even work on Servants?"

"It's not very effective." Homura admitted. "However, in this case, the element of surprise was enough to force Lancer to retreat. Of course, we'll eventually run into a Servant's Master, and I believe you'll find that grenades are _exceptionally_ effective against them.

"It just doesn't fit my image of a Heroic Spirit at all." Rin said. "Well, anyway. We can't leave the school in this condition. Let me do a quick clean-up."

Though even the most hardened janitor would have despaired at seeing the mess Black Archer had made of the hallway, the situation didn't pose a problem for a magus like Rin. It wasn't that uncommon for magi to find themselves needing to repair property damage like this, so a basic spell for fixing things was among the first that any magus learned. The constructional formula for the spell was stored within Rin's Magic Crest; she only had to speak the words of activation and a spell which had been slowly built up through the study and hard work of generations of Tohsakas was at her disposal.

Broken shards of glass leapt back into window frames. Scorch marks erased themselves from the walls. Broken tiles skittered across the floor and settled back into the proper places. In only a few moments, the hallway had remade itself into something approximating its former state.

"There." Rin said with satisfaction. "Not quite as good as new, but it shouldn't draw any attention."

"Rin, do you really think you should be congratulation yourself right now?" Red Archer asked.

"Hey, I just had my first battle as a Master in this War, and it went pretty well." Rin said. "Maybe Black Archer didn't finish Lancer off, but she did force him to flee; and on top of that, she exposed his Noble Phantasm and his identity. The wielder of Gae Bolg can only be the Hound of Ulster, Ireland's Man of Light: Cu Chulainn. All in all, that makes this a success."

The two Archers looked at each other, then sighed and shook their heads.

"What!?" Rin demanded.

"You wasted yet another of your previous Command Spells on something trivial." Homura said.

"I wouldn't call saving a life trivial." Rin said defensively.

"I did as you asked and protected the boy for the moment." Homura said. "But do you really think Lancer is going to give up so easily, after saying he'd do him the respect of fighting him seriously?"

The question froze Rin.

"But... even if he wanted to finish Emiya off, you got him to safety, right?" Rin asked.

"For the moment." Homura said. "But my power is not unlimited. I was able to remove the boy from the school grounds, but Lancer might still pick up his trail — especially if the boy lingers around in confusion instead of starting to run right away. And even in the best-case scenario, Lancer knows that the boy is a student at this school. He simply has to stake out the location until the boy returns."

"He wouldn't..." Rin began.

"He would." Homura said flatly. "To maintain the secrecy of the Grail War, all witnesses must be eliminated. You're a magus; you should be able to understand. Unless romantic infatuation is clouding your judgement, of course."

"Don't be absurd!" Rin said, perhaps a little more heatedly than she'd intended. "It's just... well, I feel somewhat responsible for getting him into this mess, since it was my decision to fight at the school. I'm just trying to take responsibility for my own actions instead of forcing someone else to suffer for my mistake."

"Your sentiment, at least, is admirable." Homura said. "But it is unsuitable for a participant in the Grail War. Unless you are capable of utter ruthlessness, you will not be able to succeed."

"How about you stop criticizing and start thinking of something to do?" Rin snapped.

"Just let the kid die." Red Archer said coldly. "Someone as soft as him doesn't deserve to live."

"How can you say he's soft?" Rin demanded of her Servant. "You don't even know him!"

Red Archer hesitated for a moment before responding.

"He saw that Black Archer was in danger, and he ran in to help." Red Archer said. "He had watched her and Lancer fight, so he must have known that he was even weaker than she was, that there was nothing he could against Lancer but die. And yet, even knowing this, he ran in anyway, because he couldn't bear to witness someone get hurt. That's why he's soft."

"To me, that sounds like nobility." Rin said.

"Just another word for foolishness." Red Archer shot back.

"There's no point arguing with me over this." Rin said. "I've made up my mind, and you're not going to change it. So if you want to make yourself useful, stop complaining and start thinking of a way to get him out of this mess."

There was a long silence as Rin's Servants regarded her. Rin clenched her fists and stared right back at them. She wouldn't back down on this point. Shirou Emiya was, when it came down to it, a decent person. She wasn't going to allow someone like that to get dragged into the bloodshed of the Holy Grail War.

"Well, if you really want to protect the boy, the simplest way would be to eliminate Lancer before Lancer kills him." Homura finally said. "No one else has any reason to target the boy, and Lancer is after all the enemy."

"We could lay an ambush against Lancer." Red Archer said grudgingly. "If we know Lancer is going to be going after this kid, then we can lie in wait to attack him when he makes his move."

"See?" Rin said. "Now you're thinking sensibly. We'll stake out Emiya's house and eliminate Lancer. He doesn't seem to be working with another Servant; and even if he was, his Master likely wouldn't send two Servants on such a simple mission as taking out an ordinary person. So, if both of you attack at once, you'll certainly have the upper hand. Emiya will be safe, and we'll be one step closer to winning the War."

Rin departed the school and began walking to Emiya's house.

"You already know where he lives, then?" Homura asked. "How interesting."

"Don't get the wrong idea, okay?" Rin said. "It's just because Sakura and Fujimura-sensei spend a lot of time there. It doesn't have anything to do with him in particular."

"Naturally." Red Archer said. "And the fact that you're willing to go to such lengths for him means nothing."

"It's not that big of a deal." Rin said. "We're only staking out his house for one night; if Lancer doesn't track him down tonight, he'll just plan to pick up his trail again at the school tomorrow."

Emiya's house was a fairly large traditional compound. Rin estimated that it could comfortably housed half a dozen people, though Emiya and Fujimura were currently the only residents.

"We should find a comfortable spot to spend the night." Rin said. "There's no telling how long it might take for—"

"Rin!: Red Archer interrupted. "I hear fighting!"

"What!?" Rin said. "He can't have found Emiya's house already — there's no way..."

But her Servant's grim faces told her all she needed to know.

"Lancer." Homura confirmed. "It sounds like he and the boy are in that shed."

"Damn it!" Rin said. "Come on, we're going to help him!"

She vaulted the fence surrounding the compound and began running towards the shed. To her satisfaction, her Servants didn't hesitate; as soon as Rin took off running, they leapt into motion as well and quickly outpaced her. Emiya couldn't survive long against a Servant, but maybe if they reached the shed fast enough they'd be in time...

However, her Servants were only halfway to the shed when the windows suddenly lit up with a dazzling golden light. An intense wave of prana radiated from the shed, hitting Rin with enough force to knock her on her butt. As she began to stand back up, one of the shed's windows exploded outwards as Lancer was knocked through it. He tumbled several times before rolling back to his feet. He raised his spear, seemingly preparing to resume fighting, but then spotted Rin's Archers bearing down on him. With a shake of his head, he turned and fled, disappearing into the night. Seeing his departure, Rin's Servants returned to her side.

"That power." Homura said. "Could that have been...?"

"Emiya?" Rin said. "No way. It's not possible. He couldn't possibly..."

But the words died in her throat as the shed's door opened. Emiya stepped out, two Servants following behind him. One was a one-armed man in a black coat that exposed his chest; his class wasn't immediately obvious. But the second was a young woman clad in the armor of a knight, and the stance in which she held her hands before her — the invisible weapon gripped in them visible only as a vague blur in the air — left no doubt at all about which Servant she was.

Shirou Emiya, who Rin had always believed to be nothing more than an ordinary highschool student, was a participant in the Holy Grail War as the Master of Saber.

* * *

End of Prologue. Beginning... of _**Fate/Parallel Fantasia**_.


	8. Day 1 Shirou Everyday Life

**Day 1: Shirou — Everyday Life**

_My body is made out of swords._

_My blood is of iron, and my heart of glass._

_I have survived countless battles._

_Not even once have I retreated,_

_Not even once have I been understood._

_I was always alone, intoxicated with victory on the hill of swords._

_And thus, my life has no meaning._

_Certainly, this body was made out of swords._

The dreams of Shirou Emiya were filled with fire and swords. He saw Fuyuki City flooded by a sea of flame. It was the catastrophe from ten years ago, which had claimed the lives of his parents and countless others, and which had been seared into his mind forever. He saw a hill made of thousands of corpses skewered by swords, a single figure standing at the pinnacle. This image was not from his memories; but within the dream, it felt just as true and real to him. And he saw a golden sword. Unlike the other images, he knew it must be only a dream, because it shone far too brightly and beautifully to be real. Though it was beyond his reach, he couldn't help but stretch out his arm and try to grasp it...

"Sempai? Sempai, it's time to wake up."

Shirou was awakened from his dream by the gentle voice of Sakura Matou. Sakura was the younger sister of Shinji's best friend, Shinji. A couple of years back, Shirou had been injured in an accident at his part-time job, and Sakura had started coming by his house each day to help look after him. Though he had long since fully recovered, it had become something of a routine for Sakura to stop by each morning and each evening.

"Oh, hi Sakura." Shirou said. "Is it already time for breakfast?"

"I just finished making it." Sakura said.

Shirou followed Sakura to the dining room, where Taiga Fujimura was already seated. Taiga was an English teacher at Homurahara high school. She had been a close friend of Kiritsugu, the man who had adopted Shirou after the death of his parents in the great fire ten years ago. When Kiritsugu himself had died five years ago, Taiga had become Shirou's guardian.

"About time you got up, Shirou." Taiga said. "You don't normally sleep this late."

"Sorry, Fuji-nee." Shirou said. "I've just been having some weird dreams lately, and it's been messing with my sleep schedule."

"Well, just as long as you don't miss breakfast." Taiga said. "Sakura's food is so good that it would be a sin to let it go to waste."

"There's no need to flatter me, Fujimora-sensei." Sakura said, looking down in embarrassment.

"Don't sell yourself short, Sakura." Shirou said. "Your cooking really is excellent."

"Th-thanks a lot, sempai." Sakura said, blushing. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

"You sure made a lot." Shirou said. "I'm not sure I can eat it all."

"It's fine." Sakura assured him. "If there's any leftovers, I'll take them to school for lunch."

Even though it was just an every-day sort of idle conversation, chatting over breakfast always seemed to make Sakura so happy. Shirou knew that both of her parents were deceased, and she didn't seem to have a particularly close relationship with her brother, so perhaps she felt happier eating here with him and Taiga rather than in solitude at her own house.

Taiga had to leave for school first, in order to prepare for her classes, but Shirou and Sakura left soon afterwards. When they reached the school, they parted ways to go to their separate lockers. When he reached his, Shirou found that there was already a familiar blue-haired boy standing there, apparently waiting for him.

"Hey, Shirou." the boy said.

"Hey, Shinji." Shirou said.

Shinji Matou had been Shirou's best friend for the past few years. However, they'd lately begun drifting apart. Shinji was developing a real attitude problem, acting like he was better than everyone else. Shirou didn't like the changes that had come over Shinji, but there didn't really seem to be anything he could do about it. Hopefully, it would turn out to just be phase. High school could be a stressful time in a teenager's life; perhaps once some of the pressure had been taken off his shoulders, Shinji would return to the way he'd once been.

"Have you heard?" Shinji asked. "Rin Tohsaka's absent today. Apparently even little miss perfect misses school once in a while."

Shirou could guess why Shinji sounded so happy about it. He'd heard from some of his friends in the archery club that Shinji had asked Rin out on a date and gotten shot down. Shinji was really not the type of person who took rejection well, so now was nursing a grudge against her.

"I hope she's come down sick with something unpleasant." Shinji continued. "Maybe if she misses enough days, she'll lose her position as top student. That'd teach her not to be so cocky."

"You really shouldn't say such things." Shirou said.

Shinji scowled at him.

"Don't tell me you're siding with her." he said angrily.

"I'm not taking anyone's side." Shirou said, raising his hands. "I barely even know Tohsaka. I'm just saying it's not nice to wish such things on other people, even if you don't like them."

"You're such a softie, Shirou." Shinji said. "It's so hard to take you seriously when you go around spouting sanctimonious bullshit like that."

"It's just the way I feel." Shirou said.

He may have said it a bit more defensively than he intended, but people questioning his ideals was a bit of a sore spot for him. Living selflessly and pursuing the benefit of others above oneself wasn't sanctimonious bullshit; it was the noble way of life he had inherited from Kiritsugu. Even if others couldn't live up to that ideal, he wished they would at least respect it. But Shirou forced himself to calm down. Perhaps his words to Shinji had been a little unintentionally condescending. Shinji and Shirou were old friend, so Shinji had expected him to take his side in his dispute with Tohsaka; by trying to stay neutral, Shirou had hurt his feelings. That's all there really was to it.

"By the way, Shirou." Shinji said. "I noticed that you came to school with Sakura again today. She spends a lot of time at your house, too. There isn't anything going on between you two, is there?"

"What?" Shirou said. "No, of course not. She just likes cooking for me, that's all. Besides, it's not like it's just the two of us; Fuji-nee is always there with us."

"I'm glad to hear that." Shinji said. "As her brother, it saddens me to say that Sakura is a woman of loose morals. I consider it a responsibility of mine to make sure she doesn't do anything inappropriate. You understand, right, Shirou?"

Shirou was frankly rather upset by Shinji's insinuation about Sakura. She was one of the most polite and reserved girls that Shirou knew, and his first instinct at hearing Shinji insult her was to come to her defense. However, anything he said would probably just upset Shinji more. Shirou was getting the sense that Shinji was actually jealous of him. It was no secret that, while Shinji was popular with the girls at school, it was only because his family was wealthy. His rejection by Tohsaka and the fact that Sakura preferred spending her time with Shirou rather than him had probably shaken his self-esteem. Shirou could only hope that Shinji would get the message and start to clean up his act.

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully. After school, Shirou went to his part-time job, and then returned to his house for dinner with Taiga and Sakura. After they'd eaten, Taiga turned on the news. Unsurprisingly, the lead story was about the current serial killer active in Fuyuki City. The murders were brutal, the victims' bodies destroyed nearly beyond recognition by some unknown method. It had been two months since the killings began, and there were still no leads. The police department was coming under serious fire for alleged incompetence in their handling of the case. People were being advised not to wander the streets after dark; particularly foreigners with blonde hair or blue eyes, who seemed to be the killer's preferred choice of target.

Just watching the report made Shirou's heart fill with anger. Life was something precious, which should never be wasted. His experience in the fire ten years had taught him that. He would never forgive someone who cruelly stole life and destroyed the happiness of others. For now, he might be powerless; but someday, he would follow in Kiritsugu's footsteps and become a hero of justice. He would have the strength to stop such evil with his own hands and save everyone.

"I'd like you to start walking Sakura home at night." Shirou told Taiga. "It's not safe for her to be out alone."

"Consider it done!" Taiga assured him.

Shirou relaxed. Though Taiga could come off as flaky and unreliable, she was fearsome with a kendo stick. Sakura would be safe as long as she was with Taiga.

With that taken care of, there was one more thing Shirou had to do before going to bed. He headed out into his backyard to an old tool shed. This shed was Shirou's secret workshop. Though Taiga and Sakura knew he spent a lot of time here, they assumed he spent it practicing his technical repair skills on appliance. In actuality, he used it for practice of a more arcane type. It was the place where Shirou went to train as a magus.

Kiritsugu had initially tried to discourage Shirou from becoming a magus. According to Kiritsugu, while Shirou had a natural affinity for "structural grasp" magecraft — the ability to instinctively understand an object's fundamental structure and composition — it was a mostly useless talent and Shirou lacked the aptitude to become a true magus. However, seeing Shirou's determination, he had eventually relented and agreed to teach Shirou the most useful application of structural grasp — "reinforcement". Because of Shirou's lack of natural ability, performing magecraft on the level of reinforcement was dangerous; therefore, Shirou made sure to practice it every day in order to prevent his skills fresh.

The first step was the most dangerous: Shirou had to construct a Magic Circuit. The way Kiritsugu had explained it, all magic drew its power from a mysterious energy source called prana. Prana existed in the world in two forms: "od", the inherent energy found within all living things; and "mana", the energy produced by the planet itself. Alone, neither was sufficient for magecraft: od, while immediately available, was not large enough in quantity; and mana, though bountiful, could not be accessed. The thing that defined a magus was the presence of a Magic Circuit, which allowed them to absorb mana from the world and process it into a useable form.

Shirou assumed a meditative stance and began to construct a Magic Circuit. First he analyzed his body's own internal structure, focusing on one of the nerves in his spine. Then, using his od, he set about changing the nerve's structure, altering it to become a Magic Circuit. The process was slow and painful; it felt like a red-hot iron rod was sliding down Shirou's back. However, he didn't allow the pain to distract him; if he made a mistake at this stage, he ran the risk of causing himself permanent spinal damage. With unwavering concentration, he continued inserting the rod until his Magic Circuit was complete. Now he was capable of performing reinforcement.

For practice today, Shirou picked out an old lamp. He placed one hand against it and closed his eyes, analyzing its structure and composition. Once he had the blueprint firmly in mind, he spoke the words of the spell.

"Trace, on."

Kiritsugu had taught him that the purpose of a spell was not to change the world, but to change himself. When a magus altered the world within his mind, the world outside of himself would change to match. That was the power of prana, the ability to force the world to conform to one's will. Shirou altered the blueprints within his mind...

...and the lamp shattered.

Shirou sighed. As amazing as the power of magecraft was, it still had its limits. If there were any defects in his mental imaging which made the structure he visualized something that was impossible to exist in the world, his reinforcement would fail. Kiritsugu had stressed that magecraft only provided an alternate way of doing things that were possible by other means. Something truly impossible, such as reversing time or resurrecting the dead — or constructing a lamp which, due to a design flaw in its blueprints, would have been a non-orientable manifold — could only be achieved through True Magic. That was the equivalent of a divine miracle; something beyond the reach of mere humans. Kiritsugu had thus cautioned Shirou not to become conceited; many mages believed themselves superior to humans without Magic Circuits, but in the end magecraft was still bound by the same limits of human ability.

Shirou prepared to try again. This time, he selected an old sword to reinforce. For some reason, swords were easier for him than anything else. He didn't even have to touch them to use his structural grasp magecraft; just laying eyes on one was enough for him to gain an understanding of its fundamental structure. The blueprint that appeared within his mind seemed somehow more solid, more real than the sword itself.

"Trace, on."

This time, the process proceeded flawlessly, the shape of the sword changing to reflect the image in his mind. The blade grew longer and broader, the hilt thickened, and a line of unusual symbols appeared down the center of the sword. Almost unconsciously, Shirou had based his reinforcement on the image of the sword that had been appearing in his dreams lately. However, while he had replicated the sword's appearance, his reproduction felt false and shallow; he hadn't captured the sword's essence, its true nature.

It was frustrating. The essence of the golden sword seemed tantalizingly just beyond his grasp. He felt as though he would be able to reach it if he pushed himself just a little further... but at the same time, he sensed an unbridgeable chasm between the sword he held and the sword he imagined. This sword was mundane; the sword he dreamed of was something divine. No matter how much you incremented a finite number, you would never reach infinity; and no matter how much he strengthened the structure or reproduced the accumulated experience, he wouldn't be able to turn this physical blade into an ideal one. That would take something a step beyond reinforcement; a magecraft the likes of which he had never heard of before, but which he felt tugging insistently at some deep part of his soul...

But it was starting to get late. He might not have been able to make the sword match his dream, but his success at reinforcing it without breaking it was a worthy accomplishment. He definitely had the sense that he was making real improvement in his magecraft; Kiritsugu would surely be proud to see how far he had progressed. But school was also important, so Shirou decided to pack it in for the night. He could always continue his training tomorrow.

Shirou lay down on his futon, and soon he was dreaming that familiar dream. A black sun above a sea of fire, screams of pain and despair rising from amidst the burnt landscape. A man standing on a hill of swords, his body pierced by countless weapons. And a golden sword, shining with divine light, like something too beautiful to be real.


	9. Day 1 Ilya Berserker x 2

**Day 1: Ilya — Berserker/Berserker**

Ilyasviel von Einzbern had no doubt that she would win the Fifth Holy Grail War. After all, it was what she'd been created for.

Ilya was a homunculus, an artificially created human, the product of hundreds of years of research and experimentation by the Einzbern family. She had pale skin, white hair, and red eyes; and although she was eighteen years old, her body was still prepubescent in appearance. The normal physical development of her body had been deemed unimportant; in this competition between magi, magical capability would be the deciding factor. The current head of the family, Jubstacheit von Einzbern, had rigorously prepared her for her role as the Einzberns' representative in the latest War. With her Servant, Berserker, she would lead the family to the fulfillment of their centuries-old dream.

Berserker was the most powerful class of Servant, stronger even than the much-vaunted Saber. The reason Saber was seen as the best class overall was because Berserker was nearly impossible to control. All of the Masters who had summoned Berserker in previous Wars had ended up being killed by their own Servants. But that wouldn't be a problem for Ilya. As a homunculus, she possessed a far greater density of magic circuits than any ordinary purpose, and careful ministration by Einzbern magi had carefully shaped her to fulfill her given purpose. Her whole body had been designed as a permanently active Command Spell, giving her absolute control over Berserker at all times. The mad Servant could only serve her with mindless obedience. It was incapable of defying her, incapable of turning on her, incapable of betraying her.

The Einzbern family had all too fresh and bitter understanding of betrayal.

As a homunculus prepared specifically for the War, Ilya had been the first Master to be chosen by the Holy Grail, and the first to summon a Servant. She'd been living with Berserker in an old castle on the outskirts of Fuyuki for two months now. At long last, the other Masters had been chosen and were beginning to call their own Servants. Soon it would be time for Ilya to begin fighting in the War. However, before she began, she was waiting on one Master in particular.

Shirou Emiya.

Jubstacheit was certain that the boy would be one of those chosen by the Grail. After all, he was the adopted son of none other than Kiritsugu. Ilya had been ordered in no uncertain terms to target and kill Shirou first. However, Ilya couldn't help but be fascinated by him. He had inherited Kiritstugu's legacy — and yet, it was not possible to imagine someone more different from Kiritsugu. Whereas his father had been a dark-hearted, coldly-calculating assassin known as the Magus Killer, Shirou seemed optimistic, naive, and a little bit dim. Although Kiritsugu had trained him as a magus, he was absolutely hopeless at it; he hadn't even called his Servant yet! At this rate, another Master would take him out before they even got a chance to meet. She'd have to do something about that.

At present, Ilya wasn't allowed to leave her castle. The Einzbern family had decided that summoning Berserker early was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it allowed Ilya the longest time out of all of the Masters go get used to controlling her Servant — it was not uncommon for difficulties to occur when the arrogance of a aristocratic magus butted heads with the legendary egotism of an epic spirit. The downside was that this also gave enemy masters the longest time to gather information. In the worst-case scenario, someone might figure out Berserker's identity and have enough time in the two months before the official start of the War to acquire the catalyst of an epic spirit naturally suited to defeat Berserker. Ilya had a hard time imagining such a Servant could even exist — the spirit summoned as Berserker himself was surely the greatest epic hero of all time — but she had no choice but bow to Jubstacheit's wishes. Berserker was forbidden from leaving the castle until the beginning of the war, and therefore so was Ilya.

The castle had, of course, been chosen because of it was an easily defensible location. The entire forest surrounding the castle was a massive bounded field. Ilya could detect whenever anyone entered or exited the forest; furthermore, she could sense how powerful of a magus they were. This way, it was impossible for anyone to sneak up on her. The Einzberns had judged that, since Berserker was obviously undefeatable by any other Servant in direct combat, the greatest threat would be Assassin. It somewhat ironic, considering that Assassin was usually considered to be the worst class of Servant — but with its Presence Concealment class ability, it might have been able to sneak past Berserker and get close enough to kill Ilya. The bounded field solved that problem; if Assassin set even one stealthy toe in the forest, Ilya would be able to sense it and dispatch Berserker to stomp it out. However, having to live in such an isolated place with only the company of Sella and Leysritt, homunculi of her creations who served as her maids.

Sella and Leysritt had been preparing dinner for Ilya when something unusual had happened. Ilya had sensed someone break the bounded field and enter the forest. There really wasn't much reason for anyone to come to forest, so it didn't happen often. Ilya had been told to be especially alert now that other Masters had begun summoning their Servants. The supervisor of the Holy Grail War wouldn't officially declare the opening of the War until all seven of the Servants had been summoned; however, waiting for that announcement before beginning was considered more of a matter of etiquette than an actual iron-clad rule. It was certainly possible that one of the enemy Masters was trying to get the jump on Ilya by making the first move while she was still sitting around her castle. Having summoned the strongest Servant, the Einzberns could afford to respect niceties like chivalry; one of the other Masters, having been saddled with an inferior Servant, may have come to the entirely sensible conclusion that, in the end, etiquette wasn't as important as winning.

However, Ilya wasn't overly concerned. The bounded field wasn't picking up any magic energy around him, so he wasn't a Master or even a magus. Of course, that didn't mean she could dismiss the intruder as a threat entirely — during the Fourth Grail War, Kiritsugu had demonstrated just how effective conventional weapons could be against magi who arrogantly disregarded them as posing no threat. But it was far more likely that it was some dumb hiker who'd gotten lost than a non-magus assassin employed by one of the other Masters. Ilya paid close attention to his movements, seeing if he seemed to be scouting the area or trying to sneak up on the castle; if so, she would have Berserker eliminate him as a precaution. However, the intruder's movements didn't seem indicative of a purpose or a plan; rather, they more resembled the panic-stricken flight of someone more concerned with what was behind them rather than what lay ahead.

A moment later, the reason for the interloper's fear became apparent. The bounded field was breached again — but this time, instead of getting the minor tingle caused by the entry of a non-magus human, Ilya felt a powerful shock. The man was being pursued by a Servant.

"Let's go, Berserker." Ilya said.

The mighty Servant picked Ilya up with tender care that anyone having seen the ferocious Servant in battle would have found unbelievable. Treating her like a fragile porcelain doll, it gently set her on one of its shoulders. Then it gave an enormous bellow and begun to run, the impact of its footsteps making the castle shake. Sella and Leysritt immediately opened the castle's front door, allowing the mighty Servant to charge outwards: they knew better than to stand in Berserker's way when it scented battle.

Ilya clung to Berserker's neck as he ran through the forest, focusing her attention on the information she was receiving from the bounded field. The fleeing man was, of course, swiftly overtaken by his pursuer. It was only to be expected; no human could possibly outmatch a Servant. A moment later, Ilya felt his life being swiftly and effortlessly snuffed out. The expected outcome. It didn't matter why the Servant had killed him; he wasn't a Master, so probably he had just had the misfortune of witnessing something he shouldn't and had been dealt with to preserve the War's secrecy. Rather, what mattered was that this was a golden opportunity for Ilya to gain intelligence about one of her enemies.

Ilya and Berserker arrived to find the Servant still standing over the thoroughly mangled remains of its victim, which had been reduced to a steaming mess that was barely recognizable as a human body. Even as someone who had seen the mess that was left behind when Berserker went all-out, Ilya was impressed. However, the Servant didn't appear to have been satisfied by its kill; if anything, it looked upset that it no longer had something to vent its fury on. One would expect an enemy to react with fear upon seeing Berserker's enormous bulk, or at the very least to be surprised to see it come crashing through the trees. But this Servant simply turned to face Berserker and snarled aggressively, as though seamlessly redirecting its aggression from its recent victim to the new target that had appeared before it.

Berserker took Ilya off its shoulders and placed her on the ground, then moved in front of her to ensure that she was protected. However, Ilya boldly peeked around the giant's legs, taking a good, long look at her enemy and trying to take in every detail. It would be ideal if she could figure out which epic spirit it was, though at the very least she should be able to identify its class.

The Servant was muscular, thought not nearly as large as Berserker. Strangely, it didn't appear to have any of the impressive armor or weapons usually carried by figures of legend. Not every Servant carried gaudy equipment, of course; Berserker, for instance, had nothing but his massive stone axe-sword. Still, it was unexpected to see a heroic spirit looking so... shabby. It wore a garment that might once have been a robe, but which was now dirty and tattered. It stood in a hunched posture, its heavy breaths sounding like the panting of a wild animal. Its face was disfigured by a severe scar, and its eyes glowed red.

It was strange. If she didn't know better, Ilya would say it was a Berserker-class Servant. But that was impossible; she herself had summoned Berserker, and there couldn't be two different Servants of the same class. And yet, what burned in its eyes was undeniably the same fiery madness under which her own Servant labored.

However, there was no point standing around contemplating the matter. Whatever class it may have been, it was a Servant; and therefore, her enemy. There could be only one response to its intrusion onto her territory.

"Berserker!" Ilya shouted.

Her giant Servant let out a bestial roar and dashed forwards, swinging its stone axe-sword at the intruder. The enemy Servant reacted with keen instincts that reminded Ilya of a feral animal, jumping backwards to avoid the blow. It's apparent lack of any usable equipment was actually an advantage in this regard — no sword would be capable of blocking Berserker's swing, nor would any armor be capable of halting the force of the blow. The only possible way to survive was to avoid the attack altogether; and the fact that Servant was unencumbered, as well as its relatively small size, gave it an advantage in this regard. It was able to avoid Berserker's mighty sword swing, the stone axe-sword uprooting trees and tearing a trench in the earth. The enemy's face twisted into an aggressive snarl as Berserker drew his arm back for another swing. Despite the obvious disparity in their size and strength, it showed no fear. The enraged Servant leapt forward, stretching out its right arm in front of it. It planted its palm firmly in the center of Berserker's chest, clenching its splayed fingers as though trying to rip the giant's flesh from its ribs with strength alone. Ilya simply had to shake her head in amusement at the sight. Just what did it think it was going to do to the colossal Servant? Was it so mad that it no longer even understood the concept of weapons.

Then glowing red lines began appearing on the attacking Servant's right arm, forming a complicating magical design, and Ilya realized that she he misjudged the enemy. She had assumed that, because it had no visible weapons, it lacked offensive capability. But to a Servant, weapons did not always come in the form of equipment. A Conceptual Weapon, the embodiment of an epic spirit's deeds in life, might take the form not of a visible device such as a sword, but manifest in the form of a power or ability.

There was a blinding flash of red light, and Berserker's chest exploded.

It was as if a bomb had gone off inside of the giant's chest cavity. Its bones had been shattered, its internal organs reduced to a chunky slurry. With just one strike, the mighty Servant had been reduced to a hollow, smoking shell. Berserker hadn't even had the chance to scream; its heart and lungs had been vaporized in an instant. The giant slowly slumped over, its blazing eyes growing cold and dull as it died.

Ilya was shocked twofold. First, she hadn't suspected that such a mad-looking Servant would be capable of magic. And second, Berserker had such powerful Magic Resistance that she would have expected even first-rate spells to bounce off its stone-hard skin. To have such an effect, this attack couldn't be anything less than the enemy's Noble Phantasm.

Of course, just because the enemy had gotten one surprise hit in, didn't mean there was any cause for concern. After all, Berserker had his Noble Phantasm as well.

A moment passed, and the lights rekindled in Berserker's eyes. The giant's spilled guts slowly began pulling themselves back into its chest cavity; then the rib cage snapped shut and fresh skin and muscle began spreading across it. Standing back up, Berserker bellowed in pain and outrage at the enemy who had dared injure it.

"That was one." Ilya said cheerfully. "Care to go for another eleven rounds?"

Ilya could see the hated and fury in the enemy's eyes. She knew that it longed to attack, to destroy. But she could also see a tiny glint of recognition; the barest vestige of fear. Somewhere deep in the back of its dull, rage-addled mind, the Servant recognized that it didn't stand a chance against the sheer overwhelming power of Berserker. It had gotten one lucky hit in because Berserker had underestimated it; it wouldn't get another. For a moment, it looked like the enemy might attack again anyway, like a rabid dog too crazed to care about its own life. But somewhere in the back of its head it must still have had something approximating a survival instinct, because it managed to restrain its more violent impulses and turned to flee instead.

Ilya sent Berserker chasing after the enemy, of course, but she didn't expect to catch it; it was much faster and nimbler than her giant Servant. She instructed Berserker to chase it out beyond the boundaries of the forest and then to return to the castle. She'd just made up her mind. She didn't care that all seven Servants hadn't been summoned yet, or that the supervisor sent by the Church hadn't made the announcement yet: no one could tell her the Grail War hadn't already begun. Not when that half-mad creature was already running around, killing people and picking fights with other Servants. Starting tomorrow, Ilya's participation in the Fifth Grail War would begin.

She'd have to introduce herself to Shirou Emiya first, of course. It was only the polite thing to do.


	10. Day 1 Shinji True Rider False Attendant

**Day 1: Shinji — True Rider / False Attendant**

Shinji Matou had been summoned by his grandfather to the Worm Room.

It was a special feature unique to the Matou household, hidden discretely away in the basement. Any guests who came over remained blissfully oblivious to its existence. They would see only the upper house: a well-decorated mansion, appropriate to a wealthy family of a long and noble lineage. But that was all a deception, a facade of normality to hide their family's secret practice of magecraft. The Worm Room, hidden away as it was, was central to the Matou family magic; and thus, the true heart of the Matou household.

The Worm room was dark, gloomy, and filled with a palpable miasma. Composed mostly of blank concrete surfaces, the most defining feature was the pit in the center. In those dark depths, thousands and thousands of worms. They were not any type of creature found in nature, but magical creations produced by Zouken's magecraft to serve as his familiars: Crest Worms. They filled the pit, covering the floor in a writhing, squirming mass; only by looking closely could one tell that, beneath the covering of worms, the bottom of the pit was filled with human bodies.

Some of the bodies were dead. Others were not so lucky. The Crest Worms didn't merely consume their victims' flesh and bone; they also fed on their od, their life-force. The worms would keep their host alive for as long as possible in order to gorge on as much prana as they could before the wretched soul inevitably expired.

But despite the terrible things that occurred here, the Worm Room held a deep attraction for Shinji. It was a place not only of horrors, but of wonders. Here, the Matou heir was instructed in magecraft, taught the mystic secrets that had been passed down the family line for generations and taught to command energies beyond the grasp of mundane humans. To be able to perform magecraft, to have a power so great that he would be able command the fear and respect of all those damned fools who mocked and pitied him, was Shinji's deepest and dearest wish.

But Shinji was not the Matou heir. Despite being the last living direct blood descendant of Zouken, Shinji had been told that he lacked the capability to perform magecraft and thus the qualifications to become heir. And so grandfather had passed him over in favor of naming Sakura his heir. Sakura, who wasn't even a Matou by blood; who was just some stupid girl who happened to have Magic Circuits; who was so worthless that her magus family had handed her off to Zouken, like was doing them a favor by taking away some garbage; nothing but a good-for-nothing useless dumb bitch slut—

Shinji realized that he had subconsciously started grinding his teeth and quickly stopped. He wouldn't lose his composure in front of grandfather.

Zouken was standing with Sakura near a magic circle that had been drawn on the floor near the pit of worms. His body was withered and frail, and the air around him was pervaded by the stench of rotting meat. He was little more than a corpse held together by the magic of his Crest Worms. Nevertheless, he still projected an imposing aura of menace. He was a man who had lived for hundreds of years, and who planned to live endless more. The rotten, wretched state of Zouken's body only spoke to the strength of his will. He must have been in constant pain from the Crest Worms keeping his soul bound to his dead flesh. Any other man put in that situation would probably gratefully accept death rather than face the prospect of having their life and their suffering prolonged eternally. But eternal life was precisely what Zouken desired, and he was prepared to use any means to seize it.

The Crest Worms had worked well for the past hundred years, but they were beginning to reach their limits. Zouken's body was decaying at an accelerated rate, and he was having to abduct more and more people to the Worm Room for the worms to feed on so that they could continue extending his life. Though it was rapidly reaching the point that calling Zouken's existence "life" was something of a stretch: he was a decaying corpse, held together by only by magecraft and worms. Shinji's father, before his death, had told Shinji that Zouken had transferred his own soul into a Crest Worm and hid it amongst the others. Thus, destroying Zouken's body would be meaningless, as his soul would survive and he could simply construct another body using his worms and a suitable corpse.

One could call it a kind of lesser immortality... but it did not satisfy Zouken at all. He didn't want to live with the constant agonizing pain of existing as a mass of worms writhing within rotting flesh. He sought the pinnacle of true immortality, a True Magic which could only be granted by the Grail. Hence Zouken's great interest in the outcome of this war.

Though, given how invested he was in prevailing, Shinji couldn't help but question Zouken's decision to rely on Sakura. The girl was trembling and white with fear as she stood in front of the magic circle, reciting the spell that would call forth a Servant to do battle on her behalf. If she couldn't even perform this simple task with confidence, Shinji didn't see how she expected to have any success in actual battle.

There was a flash of light and a blast of steam, and a Servant manifested in the center of the circle. The Servant was a pale-skinned woman with long purple hair. She wore a black dress and a blindfold across her eyes. Despite this visual impediment, she didn't seem to have any difficulty discerning her surroundings. She glanced at each of the people in the room, then focused her attention on Sakura.

"I have answered your summons and appeared as Servant Rider." the woman said. "My true identity is Medusa. What is your name?"

"S... Sakura." Sakura said with a trembling voice. "Sakura Matou."

"I pledge you my loyalty, Sakura, my Master." Rider said. "It is my solemn vow that together we will defeat all of our enemies and achieve victory in the Holy Grail War."

"N-no..." Sakura said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Rider asked.

"I said no." Sakura said, still quietly but more firmly. "I won't fight."

"I don't understand." Rider said. "Why else would the Grail choose you to bear the Command Spells? Why else would you call out to me through your summons?"

"I don't want anything to do with the Grail." Sakura said. "It's grandfather who wants it. I'm just the tool he intends to use to get it. But he'll have to get someone else to stain their hands with blood on his behalf, because I won't do it!"

"Trying to refuse your destiny, Sakura?" Zouken asked. "Have you so quickly forgotten the fate of Kariya? Have you forgotten the fate of those who defy me?"

Shinji tensed. Surprisingly, grandfather didn't sound too upset, but Shinji was still cautious. When he was feeling wrathful, Zouken was capable of unbelievable cruelty.

"I've endured everything you've put me through for the last eleven years." Sakura said. "I've borne all of the pain and all of the sins. But... I can't kill another person. If I did that... I wouldn't be able to live as myself any longer. I can't do it. Do whatever you want to me... but I won't fight in the War."

Listen to Sakura's refusal, Shinji couldn't help but clench his fists in rage. Sakura was being offered everything he'd ever wanted — the opportunity to compete in the Holy Grail War as a Master, to be recognized as a true magus — and was trying to turn it down. Shinji would have done anything for this honor, and yet it was going to Sakura, who didn't even want it. She got everything he desired, and didn't even have to decency to be grateful for it. It was so unfair, Shinji wanted to wring her stupid neck.

"This is disappointing, Sakura." Zouken said. "But it is not entirely unexpected. I anticipated that you might fail me, and made appropriate contingency plans. Shinji!"

"Uh, y-yes, grandfather!" Shinji said, quickly giving the old his full attention.

"Since Sakura is unable, you will take over her role as Rider's Master. The duty of winning the Fifth Heaven's Feel now falls on your shoulders."

"O-o-of course!" Shinji said, nearly too overwhelmed by surprise and glee to form a coherent sentence. "Without a doubt, I will achieve victory and claim the Holy Grail!"

Shinji almost couldn't believe what was happening. It was like a dream come true. Zouken, finally realizing how worthless that girl was, was giving Shinji a chance to prove himself worthy of the Matou birthright. He would show his grandfather that he wasn't a failure like his father Bakuya or uncle Kariya; he would win the War, bring back the Grail, and finally receive the respect that should have been his all along. At last, at long last, his days of being overshadowed by Sakura were over. The position of family heir, the inheritance of the Matou magecraft, his grandfather's respect... it would all finally be his.

Sakura sighed in relief, as though a great burden had been lifted from her. Shinji had to work hard not to snicker at her. What a useless girl; all those years of training for this very day, and she buckled under the pressure the moment her Servant was summoned. Shinji was all too happy to take the privilege for himself, of course. And Zouken didn't seem too upset by this turn of events, either; he must have realized some time ago that Shinji would be far more suitable as a Master than Sakura and begun planning accordingly. The only one in the room who didn't seem pleased with what was taking place was the Servant, who had begun to frown.

"I serve my Master, and no other." Rider said. "I will not obey one other than my summoner."

Shinji was beside himself with fury. The stupid Servant bitch was looking down on him as well! Why did everyone dismiss him and put so much value on Sakura? It wasn't fair. He was a thousand times better than her, and yet everyone chose her over him. Zouken, passing over him as heir in order to choose Sakura; Shirou, spending more time with Sakura even though he was supposed to be Shinji's friend; and now Servant Rider, saying she'd rather have Sakura as a Master. He couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't stand to be ignored and mocked in such a manner. Violent fantasies of brutal revenge on everyone who'd ever belittled him filled Shinji's mind.

"You do not have a choice in the matter." Zouken told Rider. "You are a Servant. You will serve your Master."

"Sakura is my Master." Rider said.

"Not any longer." Zouken said.

He tapped his cane against the ground once, and the Crest Worms surged in response. Large numbers of them began crawling out of the pit in the floor, flowing up the stone steps like a living carpet. They squirmed across the floor to Zouken, eagerly pooling at the feet of their creator and master. Then Zouken tapped his cane again, and a group of worms separated from the main mass. These worms began to change their shape, flattening their bodies, overlapping, and fusing together to form a leather-like substance. Shinji watched with rapt attention. Though he'd read all about the Maotu family magecraft in books, he'd never actually seen it performed before. It was incredible to behold. The thought of wielding this power for himself made Shinji giddy with anticipation.

By now, the worms' transformation was complete. They had remade themselves into an object resembling a book. In fact, it looked remarkably ordinary; if Shinji hadn't seen the process of its creation, he never would have believed it had been created from the bodies of Crest Worms. But despite its plain appearance, Shinji knew it must possess potent magic powers, having been forged from grandfather's own familiars.

"Pick it up." Zouken instructed Shinji.

Shinji hurried to do so immediately. He grabbed the book from the stone floor and clutched it to his chest like something precious. Zouken, meanwhile, hobbled over to Sakura and grabbed her roughly by the hand. Due to the harshness of the action, Rider reacted as though Sakura was being attacked, and raised a spike-like weapon as if to strike at Zouken. Sakura, though, quickly shook her head.

"It's okay." she said. "This is what I want."

"I answered your summons because it was my desire to serve you." the Servant said. "If abandoning our contract is the only way I can please you... then I will do so."

Zouken held Sakura's hand by the wrist, exposing the three red Command Spells that had appeared on the back of her hand. He then held his other hand over hers. His rotten flesh squirmed nauseatingly, then split open as three Crest Worms bored their way out of his palm. They landed on the back of Sakura's hand with a soft, wet sound. Sakura didn't flinch at their touch; she had been intimately acquainted with the Crest Worms from childhood. In fact, numerous worms had already been implanted into her body. While the worms in Zouken were designed to hold his decaying flesh together, the worms in Sakura had the function of amplifying her magic talent. Fat lot of good that turned out to be, Shinji thought.

The three worms Zouken had dropped on her hand seemed to have been constructed for yet another function. They bit into her skin and began sucking like leeches. However, instead of drawing blood, they absorbed the Command Spells. The markings faded from Sakura's hand, leaving not a trace they had ever been there, while the Crest Worms grew fat and bloated and turned deep crimson in color.

"Bring the book." Zouken commanded. "Open it."

Shinji did so. Zouken verified that the Crest Worms had finished their work, then scooped them off of Sakura's hand and dropped them onto the blank pages of the book. He then shut the covers, squeezing them tightly together. When he opened the book again, the worms had disappeared; instead; the pattern that had been on Sakura's hand was now stamped on the pages.

"This is the Book of the False Attendant." Zouken said. "So long as you hold it, you have the authority of a Master. Use it wisely."

"I understand!" Shinji enthusiastically assured him. "You can count on me to uphold the honor of the Matou family!"

Zouken made no response to this, but instead turned to Sakura. She tensed in anticipation of whatever punishment he was prepared to mete out for her disobedience. Shinji watched expectantly, wondering if he was finally going to feed her to the worms now that she had failed in the purpose he had been preparing her for for so long.

"Though you will not be a Master in this War, you must continue your regular training in magecraft." Zouken said. "If you do not, the Crest Worms within your body will slowly destroy you. You may leave now."

Shinji and Sakura both stood in disbelief for a few moments. Such charity was completely uncharacteristic of Zouken. When Sakura had refused to be Rider's Master, she had been fully expected Zouken to kill her in retribution, and had resolved herself to that fate. The fact that he wasn't punishing her was so surprising that she appeared more worried than relieved.

"I said, you may leave." Zouken repeated.

Sakura snapped out of her stupor and quickly began ascending the stairs out of the Worm Room. Shinji felt a flash of anger at her escaping the punishment she so richly deserved, but he knew better than to question grandfather's decisions. Besides, he would have plenty of opportunities to make up for it later. On one hand, Zouken's proclamation that she would continue her magecraft training was annoying; if Shinji was going to be the family heir from now on, then Sakura's instruction should cease. But on the other hand, it also meant that Shinji would be allowed to continue his role in her training. The sessions awakened the Crest Worms within Sakura's body, causing certain side-effects that it was Shinji's duty to relieve. Those times, when Sakura was at his mercy and he could vent the resentment and bitterness in his heart without restraint, were some of the only moments when he was truly happy.

Zouken, too, turned to leave the Worm Room. As he ascended the stairs, however, he paused for a moment and turned back to Shinji.

"Since you lack magic circuits, you cannot provide Rider the prana it requires." Zouken said, as though as an afterthought. "Use the reserves stored in the Crest Worms."

A nasty grin crept onto Shinji's face. Now he'd get to teach this haughty Servant bitch a lesson she wouldn't soon forget. She thought Sakura was better suited than Shinji to be her Master? It was time to instruct her on who was boss.

"Oh, that's right, Rider." Shinji said. "I have to instruct you in the technique of the Matou family magecraft. These worms really are remarkable creatures; I think it's only fair that you experience them for yourself. Here's my first order to you as your Master: crawl into the pit and let the worms have their way with you!"

The Servant glanced at the pit with obvious hesitance. Even Shinji, who had no aptitude for magecraft whatsoever, could viscerally sense the lust of the Crest Worms and the torment of their victims. To Rider, who had keen magical senses, the miasma of pain and despair radiating from the pit must have been overwhelming. The worms would be releasing prana into her body instead of consuming it from her, but the experience would be much the same.

"You are willing to use such vile tools?" she asked.

"Vile?" Shinji asked. "This is the magecraft that has been passed down by the magi of the Matou family for countless generations. It is a noble art practiced by the chosen heir of the Matou family; and as the one who has been chosen to wield it, I will not allow it to be disparaged."

Shinji smiled dangerously.

"Besides, it doesn't matter what form it takes — power is power." he said. "So long as it's useful, I don't care about the specifics."

"You... are truly despicable." Rider said.

"You can't insult me any more." Shinji said. "I won't let anyone look down on me anymore. Because now, I have power. Now, I am a magus — I am a Master!"

In the end, Rider was forced to obey: Shinji was the Master, and she was the Servant. She descended stoically into the gloomy depths of the pit, allowing the Crest Worms to flow over her. Moments later, the worms began to writhe in ecstacy as they gorged themselves on flesh, blood, and bone.


	11. Day 1 True Caster Rain

**Day 1: True Caster — Rain**

After night fell in Fuyuki, clouds gathered and a heavy rain began to fall. The streets below were largely deserted. Only one figure walked through the downpour: a woman wearing a strange, concealing purple robe. She had no umbrella to protect her from the rain, only the hood pulled tightly over her head. She staggered as she walked, as though so exhausted she could barely stand.

The woman was Medea, the witch of legend, who had been summoned as Servant Caster for the Holy Grail War. But with her Master dead and her prana reserves nearly depleted, she lacked the strength of even a normal human, let alone an epic spirit. It seemed that her first day of the War would also be her last.

Medea's strength failed her, and her legs fell out from under her. She toppled to the ground and lay prone, one of her cheeks pressed against the wet concrete of the sidewalk. There was nothing more she could do. If she had encountered any humans, she could have killed them and consumed their souls to replenish her prana — but due to the hour of the night, and the intensity of the rain, and the fear caused by the recent serial-killings, the streets were empty. All that was left to her was to wait for death.

As she lay sprawled face-first on the ground amidst the rain, her thoughts drifted back to the series of events that had resulted in her ending up this way. Her initial summoning had gone well enough; she had been called by a Master who was a member of the Magus Association and thus had a fairly decent knowledge of strategy for combat between mages. He was also pretty dim and easy to manipulate, which suited Medea just fine. Once she had constructed her Temple and dispatched her familiars, she would be able to gather enough prana on her own that she would no longer need support from him at all. She didn't necessarily plan to eliminate him if she didn't have to, however. The Grail, after all, was an omnipotent wish-granting machine of limitless power. If its power was truly limitless, then it could be shared freely: no matter how much power Medea gave away to others, the quantity at her disposal would never lessen. Once she had the Grail, all who were worthy would be allowed to share in its blessings.

Then the other Caster appeared.

She entered the room a few minutes following Medea's summoning, claiming that she was also a Caster-class Servant who had been summoned by Medea's Master. Some kind of error with the summoning spell had caused her to be deposited a short distance away rather than inside the circle itself, but she had no doubt about who had summoned her.

Though she didn't seem to be hostile, her appearance did present the Master with a dilemma. He only had enough prana to support a contract with one Servant, not two. There was no way he would be able to bear the burden of keeping both of them, so there was no choice to but to choose one as his Servant and kill the other.

Given proper preparation time, a Caster could survive indefinitely without a direct connection to her Master by gaining prana from consuming souls. So, even if he could only form a contract with one of the Casters, it might still be possible to work with both of them. This Master, however, was not likely to trust a Servant who he was in a mere alliance with, without the security of the three Command Spells that could ensure absolute obedience. Furthermore, as a Servant without a contract, the Caster would be capable of forming an alliance with another Master should the opportunity arise and appear sufficiently tempting. No, her Master would not take that kind of risk. He would contract only one of the two Casters, and kill the other.

The other Caster talked casually about the three of them working together to win the Holy Grail. Playing innocent, acting like she didn't know that the forced suicide of one of them would be the inevitable conclusion — or who it would be, the conniving bitch. She was much younger and more attractive, with her wide eyes and her chestnut hair. Not too much going on in the chest department, but her perverted Master may have preferred it that way. Medea could tell from the look in his lecherous eyes that he was going to abandon her in favor of this younger, prettier Caster.

Memories of Jason flooded her mind. The man she had loved more than anyone else in the world. The man she had betrayed her father and country for. The man who had entered into the scared bond of marriage with. And the man who had abandoned her to marry Creusa, the younger and prettier princess of Corinth. Her Master was going to do the same thing. He was going to forsake the contract he had sworn with her in favor of some other girl.

It was too much. She couldn't bear to be betrayed again. Medea's hand clenched involuntarily, and felt the cold, hard handle of a weapon materialize within it. It was a dagger with a jagged crystal blade, a weapon which had been stained with the sin of filicide. It was from that act of ultimate betrayal, the murder of children by their own mother, that it derived its power as her Noble Phantasm. Rule Breaker, Destroyer of All Marks, the ultimate anti-magic weapon that could sever any bond — even that between Servant and Master.

Neither of them saw the attack coming. Before anyone had even realized what was happening, the wicked blade had pierced through the magus's throat. The weapon's twisty design made it largely unsuitable for killing; but against a target who was completely unprepared, it sufficed. With a Servant's strength behind it, the dull edge bit deeply enough to sever the carotid artery and jugular vein. Death from exsanguination would come within seconds. At the same time, the red Command Spells on the magus's hand burned brightly for a moment and then vanished, reappearing on the back of Medea's hand a moment later — stolen by Rule Breaker's magic.

The other Caster's eyes widened in surprise as blood sprayed from the magus's neck, but Medea wasn't about to give her the opportunity to take revenge for her would-be Master. Extending her hands in front of her, the witch of betrayal spoke an incantation in a divine language long lost to mankind. Sounds that the human voice should be incapable of producing flowed like music from her lips: the language of the gods, a single word of which could command high thaumaturgy that a modern magus would have to perform an entire aria to cast. Magic circles inscribed themselves in the air before her and fired beams of destroying light at the enemy Caster. The Servant had only scant seconds to raise a defense before being blasted by the torrential streams of power.

Amazingly enough, she actually managed to raise some type of shield before Medea's attacks struck home. Perhaps she shouldn't have been too surprised; if this strange second Caster was indeed also an epic spirit of legendary skill in the art of magic, then it would make sense for them to also be fluent in the divine language. What was strange, though, was how different the incantation sounded from any type of magic Medea was familiar with. Instead of the harmonious tones of the divine language, the Caster shouted short, distinct words, though not ones belonging any incantation that Medea had heard before.

Method aside, the defense was at least partially successful. Power responded to the second Caster's strange words as surely and swiftly as to the divine language, infusing the air around her and strengthening it into a spherical defensive barrier. The beams of prana she had unleashed did not penetrate the protective whirlwind, but instead propelled the bubble of roiling air backwards. It smashed through the side of the magus's house and was sent hurtling off into the night.

But it seemed that the mysterious other Servant would have the last laugh in the end, because Medea had expended far too much of her dwindling reserve of precious prana on that attack. Unlike Archers with their Independent Action skill, Servants of the Caster class could not last any significant amount of time without a Master supplying them a constant flow of prana. The only way for her to survive in this world without a Master would be to regularly consume the souls of many humans, devouring the magic energy that existed within them in the form of od. With sufficient time to prepare, Medea could have set up a great ritual system that would allow her to drain prana from humans all across the city, letting herself remain incarnate indefinitely without need for a Master... but because of the haste with which she'd acted in eliminating her Master, there had been no time to make any such preparations. She was instead stuck stumbling down a sidewalk trying to find any nearby humans to feed on; but it was dark and rainy, and there wasn't a soul to be seen. And because she'd expended so much of her limited power trying to kill the other Caster, she didn't even have the strength to summon familiars and send them in search of targets. Her strength having deserted her, Medea could do nothing but collapse on the wet sidewalk and wait for the end, as rain fell like tears from heaven above.

After a while, Medea realized that raindrops had ceased striking her. With an effort of will, she focused her dying senses. A stern-looking man was standing over her, holding an umbrella. He was looking down at her with apparent concern.

"Do you require assistance?" he asked.

Now was Medea's chance. If she killed this man and consumed his soul, she would gain enough strength to go on for a little longer. She could use that time to find more people, more souls, more energy, and stabilize her fading existence. All she had to do was stab him with Rule Breaker, kill him like her unlamented former Master, and she would have a chance.

And yet... she hesitated. This man had not shown her any ill will. Seeing her pain and weakness, he had stopped to offer her help. That was not something Jason would have done, or the magus who had summoned her; she could not simply treat him the same as such scum. And so, instead of reaching for her dagger, she spoke in a pleading voice.

"Help... me..." she whispered.

She was barely conscious as he lifted her up in his arms and began to carry her. Medea closed her eyes, resigned to her fate; if she was not going to consume his soul for sustenance, then there was nothing a non-magus human could do to sustain her. Her only comfort was that she would not spend her last moments in this world alone.

Everything changed, however, when he brought her back to his home. By the purest good luck, the man happened to be staying in a room at Ryuudou Shrine, a temple on the top of a mountain. The moment he carried her through the gate, Medea could sense the spiritual power of the place. It had been constructed directly above the center of the Greater Grail, the powerful ritual which would manifest the Holy Grail upon the conclusion of the War. The Greater Grail had itself been placed in this location because it was a point where several leylines converged. Almost instinctually, Medea reached down through the earth and began siphoning prana from them. Prana was found in the world in two forms: od and mana. If od could be said to be the power of human life-force, then mana was the life-force of the planet itself. Medea drank deeply from the leylines, gorging herself on Gaia's soul until her fading body ceased crumbling and stabilized.

Thus reinvigorated, Medea began speaking to the man who had saved her. She learned that his name was Souchirou Kuzuki. He had worked as an assassin and a school teacher, but had found both pursuits unfulfilling. Upon seeing Medea lying dying on the ground, however, something had moved in his cold heart, and he had decided to save her.

Since he was not a magus, Kuzuki could not truly become her Master in the sense that he was incapable of providing her with prana. But now that she had found such a rich convergence of leylines, that wouldn't be a problem. Using Territory Creation, the Class Skill of the Caster class, she was able to claim the mountain as her Temple, a special territory under her direct control. All the spiritual energy of the Ryuudou Shrine was now hers to command as she willed.

Of course, if she wanted to establish some decent defenses on the Temple, she'd need a bit more power than the leylines could provide her with: though their reserves were boundless in depth, the amount she was capable of siphoning from them was limited. The energy she drew from them was only enough to sustain her, not for her to perform great feats of magecraft. It was, however, enough for her to begin summoning some basic familiars.

"Arise, Children of the Hydra's Teeth!"

Medea scattered a handful of dragon teeth across the ground, using them as catalysts to summon her minions. The Dragon Tooth Warriors were mindless skeletal soldiers who would obey her will without question. While such low-quality constructs were unlikely to be even a minor hindrance to a Servant, they were quite capable of defeating an ordinary human and consuming their soul. Of course, wholesale slaughter would probably draw unwanted attention from the overseer of the war. Killing her original Master and taking a non-magus as a Master might have her on thin ice already, so it wouldn't be wise to cause too big of a commotion at first. Best to start slowly, until she could determine how strict or flexible he was — and whether he actually had enough power at his disposal to be a threat to her. If so, she could come up with a plan to eliminate him. In the meantime, there was no need to be greedy: she had an entire city of potential lambs to slaughter, thousands of souls which could be sacrificed to fuel her magecraft. Even if she left her victims enough od to keep them alive, she would be able to gather more than enough prana for the new plan that had begun brewing at the back of her mind.

The three red marks of her former Master's Command Spells, stolen by the contract-violating power of Rule Breaker, glowed on the back of her hand. Only one who had been deemed worthy by the Grail to serve as a Master was granted these marks. Or, to put it in other terms, bearing these marks was proof that one was worthy to be a Master. And she was a magus, after all. Not merely that, but an epic spirit of magecraft, a legendary witch whose mastery of the mystic arts far exceeded that of any modern magus. The only being that could possibly match her skill at magecraft would be another Servant of the Caster class — and since such an irregular spirit did appear to exist in this War, Medea would be well-served to find some extra advantage that could tip the scales in her favor.

Medea dispatched the Dragon Tooth Warriors to begin collecting the prana she would need from the sleeping city below, then began drawing a complicated magic circle on the ground beneath the front gate of the Ryuudou Shrine.


	12. Day 2 Shirou Strange Tidings

**Day 2: Shirou — Strange Tidings**

The day began normally enough for Shirou. He awoke from a dream of fire and swords to find that Sakura hadn't come over that morning. While that was a bit out of the ordinary, it wasn't remarkably so; though Sakura tried to come by every day, every now and then something would keep her. Probably something had come up at the Matou household that required her attention. In any case, in the absence of Sakura, it fell to Shirou to make breakfast.

After an enjoyable meal with Taiga, he turned on the TV to check the news. That was when things first took a turn for the unusual. Shirou had been expecting the top news to be the continuing hunt for the Fuyuki serial killer; the networks had been increasingly attacking the police force and politicians for their perceived incompetence in failing to apprehend the culprit. Instead, the reporters listed off one strange occurrence after another, each more bizarre than the last.

During the night, numerous people had lost consciousness and fallen into comas, apparently due to gas leaks. While such things had been known to happen before, it was quite rare; Shirou had never heard about so many separate gas leaks occurring in such a short period of time. Even more strangely, at around the same time the gas leaks were occurring, an enormous white wolf with two tails had been seen jumping between the rooftops of buildings in downtown Fuyuki. Normally, such eyewitness reports would be discounted as the ravings of lunatics and drunkards; but so many people were claiming to have seen the same thing that it was impossible to ignore.

The second strange occurrence happened when Shirou was walking to school. He was halfway there when a small girl with silver hair and red eyes stepped into his path. Shirou had never seen the girl before, but she gave him a sly smile that implied that she at least was familiar with him.

"Hey, onii-chan." the girl said. "You'd better summon it soon, or you're going to die."

Before Shirou could ask what she meant, the girl turned on her heel and departed, disappearing into an alley. For a few moments, Shirou considered going after her and trying to get her to explain her cryptic proclamation; but that might cause him to be late in getting to school, where he was really hoping to check in with Sakura before class. It probably wasn't anything all that important, anyway; just some girl playing a practical joke.

Still, a sense of unease followed Shirou as he walked the rest of the way to school. He had a strange but unshakeable feeling that his life was about to change forever.

==Interlude: Sakura==

When Sakura Matou arrived at Homurahara School, Rin Tohsaka was waiting for her by the front door. Before Sakura could speak a word of greeting, Rin grabbed her firmly by the arm and led her to the bathroom. Ignoring Sakura's mumbled protests at her rough treatment, Rin checked to see that there was nobody else in earshot. Once she had confirmed that they were alone, she spoke seriously to Sakura.

"The time of the Holy Grail War has come, and I have been selected as a Master." Rin said.

Of course. If Sakura had been chosen to represent the Matous, then it only made sense that Rin had been chosen to represent the Tohsakas.

"You understand what this means, don't you?" Rin asked. "If you've also been chosen as a Master, then my duty as a magus is clear."

Rin was good at hiding her emotion. If Sakura didn't know her as well as she did, she wouldn't have been able to sense the grief behind her mask of determination.

"I'm not a Master." Sakura said.

"I wish I could just take your word for it." Rin said. "But historically, a member of the Matou family has always been selected by the Grail. Therefore, I'm going to need to make certain."

"How?" Sakura asked.

While she knew that magi could identify one another by sensing the prana generated by an active Magic Circuit, Zouken had never told her about any method by which a Master could be distinguished from an ordinary magus. If Rin did have some kind of spell like that, Sakura might still trigger it — while she wasn't currently Rider's Master, she had been the one to perform the summoning ritual that called Rider into the world. It would depend on how exactly the spell worked, whether it looked only for a current bond or for traces of a prior one as well.

"It's simple." Rin said. "All Masters chosen by the Grail receive a distinguishing mark: the three Command Spells which appear somewhere on their body. If you don't bear any Command Spells, then you are telling the truth and are not a Master."

Sakura relaxed. Three Command Spells had indeed marked her hand when she'd summoned Rider, but those marks had vanished when Zouken had used his worms to reforge the Command Spells into the Book of the False Attendant for Shinji. No trace of them was left for Rin to find.

"Command Spells can appear anywhere on the body." Rin said. "Mine are on the back of my right hand, but that doesn't mean yours would necessarily appear in the same place. So, I'm going to have to search your whole body in order to make sure you really don't have any. Take off your clothes."

Despite her discomfort with the prospect, Sakura didn't argue; it really was the quickest and best method to convince Rin that she wasn't a Master. Sakura's rare interactions with Rin were always awkward; having to disrobe for her made this one even more so. The feeling of air across her bare skin made the Crest Worms within her body squirm with excitement. They had learned that nudity often meant that one of Sakura's "lessons" was about to begin. Sakura hated the effect the worms had on her body, amplifying her carnal impulses. It was would get so bad that, as part of her magecraft training, Zouken had enlisted Shinji to periodically _relieve her tension_, as he put it; a duty that Shinji was all too eager to fulfill. The worst part was, when the urges got bad enough, Sakura would stop resisting him. Her body was constantly betraying her, forcing her into depravity. Even now, despite her fear and embarrassment, the worms were doing their ugly work. She only hoped Rin didn't notice.

Fortunately, Rin was detached and clinical in her examination. Though Sakura often yearned for Rin to show her some warmth or kindness, she was now grateful of her cold and professional manner, which helped Sakura keep her own emotions under strict control.

"It seems you were telling the truth." Rin said, barely concealed relief in her words. "You really haven't been chosen as a Master. You can put your clothes back on now."

Sakura hurried to do so, hoping to quiet the vulgar urges being generated by her agitated crestworms.

"So, you aren't a part of this War." Rin said. "And Shinji doesn't have any magic circuits, so he couldn't be chosen... that only leaves Zouken as a potential Matou candidate. But from what I've heard, he's so decrepit that he can barely move around the house, let alone fight in the Holy Grail War... so perhaps, for the first time, the Matous have been passed over entirely."

Pain welled up in Sakura's heart. She wanted to tell Rin that she was wrong; that Shinji had become a Master through the magic of the Book of the False Attendant, and that Zouken still maintained his vitality by using his Crest Worms to consume the bodies and souls of others. She wanted to tell Rin about the Worm Room, and what she had endured there for the past ten years. Rin knew nothing of the Matou family magecraft; she assumed that Sakura had been undergoing traditional training. If she knew about the Crest Worms, she would definitely try to save Sakura. And from the bottom of her heart, Sakura was crying out to be saved.

But Sakura said nothing. The lesson she had learned from the Fourth Grail War was still fresh in her mind. Uncle Kariya had known of her suffering, had tried to save her... and what had opposing Zouken gotten him? Eaten by worms, like all the others who had tried to stand in the ancient magus's way over the past few centuries. Rin couldn't save Sakura — trying would only result in her worm-eaten bones joining the countless others carpeting the floor of the training pit.

Sakura envied Rin, for living a life she never could. Sometimes, she even hated her, for never inquiring about Sakura's life, for never making the effort to learn that Sakura was in trouble and needed to be saved. But Sakura would never wish the Worm Room on anybody. And so she stayed silent.

"In any case, we don't have to be enemies." Rin said. "That's a relief to me, Sakura. I would have done what was necessary, but... I wouldn't have found it easy."

She turned away and seemed to address the air.

"Come on, Black Archer; we're done here." Rin said.

Of course. Since she was a Master, it was only natural that she would be accompanied by her Servant at all times. The Servant must have been present the entire time, unnoticed in its spiritual form. Sakura felt her embarrassment grow at the thought of some uncouth hero leering at her naked body, and her writhing Crest Worms twisted the sensation into perverted pleasure. Sakura took a moment to splash cold water on her face, then hurriedly exited the bathroom.

==Interlude Out==

The first thing Shirou did when he got to school was look around for Sakura. He soon spotted her leaving the girls' bathroom along with Rin Tohsaka. Tohsaka, as always, carried herself with a cold and haughty grace; Sakura, however, was blushing deeply for some reason and kept her head tilted down towards the floor.

"There you are, Sakura!" Shirou said. "I was a little surprised not to see you this morning. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." Sakura assured him. "There were just some... things I needed to do... at my house this morning, so I didn't have time to come over. I'm sorry I wasn't there to make you breakfast, Shirou-senpai.

"It's alright, I can manage on my own once in a while." Shirou said. "Umm... I'm just kind of wondering... what were you and Rin doing in the bathroom together? You look kind of, well, ...embarrassed."

"It was nothing." Sakura mumbled. "She just wanted to look at my body."

"Um... what?" was all Shirou could say to that.

His reaction only made Sakura blush more.

"It was nothing... untoward." Sakura told him.

"Well, if you say so." Shirou said dubiously. "But really, you shouldn't let Rin boss you around like that. If anyone's giving you trouble, you know you can always come to me for help, right?"

"I understand, senpai." Sakura said.

For some reason, she didn't look Shirou in the eye when she said it.

"Anyway, we can't stand around talking all day." Shirou said. "We have to get to class."

He reached out to take Sakura's hand, and heard her gasp.

"Senpai!" Sakura said. "You're bleeding!"

"Hmm?"

Shirou looked at the back of his left hand. A small amount of blood was trickling from three small cuts. It was really only a tiny bit of blood, nothing to warrant the surprise and fear he'd heard in Sakura's voice; it didn't even hurt. Shirou tried to recall when he might have gotten the cuts; probably he had scraped his hand without noticing while working at his part-time job. The only slightly odd think was the shape of the cuts: they almost seemed to form a pattern that resembled a sword. The first cut formed the blade; the second, the crossguard; and the third, the hilt. It was probably just a coincidence, though; Shirou's mind must still be lingering on the subject of swords because of how often they appeared in his dreams. He held up his hand to show Sakura how minor the injury was.

"It's nothing, see?" Shirou said. "Just some scratches."

"No..." Sakura whispered, eyes wide with barely concealed terror. "No... it can't be..."

"Really, I'm fine." Shirou reassured her. "You don't need to worry. Look, I'll go to the nurse's office and get some disinfectant put on it, okay?"

He really thought Sakura was overreacting, but he wanted to put her mind at ease and it really wouldn't be too much trouble. Shirou walked down the hallway to the nurse's office, not knowing that even more strangeness awaited him there. When he entered the room, he found himself facing not the regular nurse, but a strange young woman with pale white skin and white hair. Her arms and legs were wrapped in bandages in several locations.

"Um, excuse me." Shirou said. "Do you know where the nurse is?"

The woman turned to face Shirou, regarding him with pale yellow eyes.

"Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, the regular nurse is unable to fulfill her duties at this time." the woman said. "Therefore, until she is able to resume her duties, I will be temporarily filling her role as school nurse. I apologize if my own skills in the healing arts are deficient in comparison to hers, but I will attempt to help you to the best of my ability."

Shirou was somewhat taken aback.

"Um, I'm sure it won't be a problem." he said. "I just assumed you were here to be treated because of, well, the bandages. Are you okay?"

"That is a personal matter." the woman said. "I would prefer if you did not inquire further."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be rude." Shirou quickly said.

"It's alright." the woman said. "You meant no harm by your question; you will be forgiven."

The way she clasped her hands when speaking that last part, as though in prayer, made Shirou slightly uncomfortable.

"By the way, my name's Shirou Emiya." he said. "Who are you?"

"Caren Ortensia." the young woman said. "Though my primary service is as a nun for the Holy Church, I have some experience in first aid. All healing comes from God; but we, as His servants, must strive to carry out His will through our own efforts."

"Right..." Shirou said. "Anyway, it's nothing serious, just a few small cuts that need to be disinfected."

He extended his left hand for Caren to inspect. Oddly, her eyes widened in surprise much the same way Sakura's had upon seeing the pattern formed by the small cuts.

"Holy Stigmata." Caren whispered. "The blessing of the Great Grail. ...But why show this to me?"

"I'm sorry, but I really don't know what you are talking about." Shirou said.

"What?" Caren asked, tilting her head.

"I don't know anything about any holy stigmata or whatever." Shirou said. "It's just a few small scratches, nothing serious at all; look, they've already stopped bleeding. If you could just put a little hydrogen peroxide on them, I'll be on my way.

"Oh!" Caren said. "Yes, of course one of your kind would think it necessary to deceive anyone associated with the Holy Church about your participation in these happenings. You will be forgiven."

Caren treated Shirou's hand without further comment, and he left the nurse's office feeling slightly relieved to get away from the unusual young woman. Today was turning out to be one strange event after another. Of course, he didn't know that the most significant event of all was still yet to occur.

Since Shirou didn't have any part-time work this afternoon, he normally would have left school as soon as classes got out. However, one of his classmates, Issei Ryuudou, had asked him to look at a broken air conditioner in the student council room. Shirou would never turn down a request for help, so he stayed at the school to take a look at the machine. With his structural grasp magecraft, it was easy to identify the worn-out parts causing the problem. He was then able to repair the unit by strengthening them with Reinforcement. Of course, he ran the risk of destroying the unit if he made a mistake, as he had with the lamp during last night's practice; but since it was already broken in a way that conventional methods couldn't fix, there was really nothing to lose.

"Trace, on."

Fortunately, the process went well, and the air conditioner was returned to functional condition. Shirou looked on his handiwork with satisfaction for a few moments; Issei would certainly be pleased when he came in tomorrow. Then Shirou started getting ready to head home, as it was beginning to get late. The actual Reinforcement itself didn't take long at all, but as usual he'd spent a lot of time on the painstaking work of constructing the Magic Circuit in his spine. It seemed all of the other students had gone home already.

As he began walking away from the school, however, something caught Shirou's eye. Flashes of purple light and the sound of steel singing through the air, coming from the courtyard. Despite Shirou's senses tingling with the intuition of danger, he couldn't help but turn back to take a look. If someone was in trouble, it was his responsibility to lend a hand. But when he rounded the corner, what he saw was beyond belief.

Rin Tohsaka, a look of fierce determination on her face. A man clad in a blue bodysuit, whirling a glittering red spear. A dark-haired girl in a purple skirt, drawing back the string of a black bow. A powerful aura composed of equal parts mana and killing intent.

The school had become a battlefield.


	13. Day 2 Shirou Night of Fate

**Day 2: Shirou — Night Of Fate**

Shirou watched from the edge of the school courtyard as two figures engaged in battle. One was a man in a skin-tight blue suit, wielding a glittering red spear. The other was a girl in a purple dress, wielding a black bow with no arrows. The girl launched blast after blast of purple energy from her bow; the man struck them from the air one after another with the point of his spear. Both figures moved with impossible speed and precision. They looked human, but no human could ever be capable of such perfect movements. They had to be some type of magical being: demons, or fairies, or True Ancestors, or one of myriad other types of fantastic creatures that Kiritsugu had described to him during his training.

The two figures paused in their combat, then adopted battle stances. A moment later, he felt a massive swell of magical energy from them, and realized that what he'd seen so far had been mere sparring. Only now were they preparing to fight seriously. The amount of prana they were exuding was beyond anything Shirou had ever seen before. Even his father, who had been a true magus rather than a half-baked one like Shirou, couldn't have used even a fraction of the amount of magical power they were now gathering. And just as thick as the aura of power surrounding them, was the force of their killing intent. This was no friendly competition, but a fight to the death. When they released their attacks, they would be aiming to kill; and with the enormous amount of prana being built up, it was almost certain that one of them would die.

The figures were not human, could not be human. Intellectually, Shirou knew that. But they looked human to his eyes, one of them even resembling a young girl. And feeling the intensity of their killing intent, memories of the fire ten years ago flooded his mind.

A black sun. A sea of fire. The screams of thousands of anguished souls being burned alive, begging to be saved. Shirou had wandered for a day amidst the fire and devastating, listening to those despairing cries. But when rain had finally begun to fall, extinguishing the flames, only Shirou had still been alive. Of all those who had cried out for salvation, only he had been saved.

Shirou hadn't been able to save anyone. He had been too young, too weak, too badly injured. He had ignored the desperate pleas of those asking him for aid, seeking only to preserve his own life. And when the flames had gone out, Kiritsugu had found only him alive, had saved only him. Shirou had never been able to stop thinking about all the others, those who had died abandoned in that burning hell.

Shirou had received the miracle of being saved when no-one else had. And so, he felt it was his duty to those who had died to repay that miracle by saving others. He didn't care if he died, so long as in doing so he could save another — he should have died on that day, amidst that soul-charring fire; everything since then had simply been borrowed time.

The memory of that moment was engraved in Shirou's mind. Kiritsugu had seemed to happy, when he had saved Shirou; as if it was actually him being saved. And Shirou had admired the beauty of that ideal. To put saving others above one's own self; to find happiness in bringing happiness to others. Shirou had borrowed that way of life and made it his own. It was the single purpose that drove him, the iron-clad law by which he lived his life.

Whatever these two combatants were, they looked human to his eyes. That was enough. He wouldn't allow anyone in his sight to die if there was anything he could possibly do about it. Shirou spotted a fallen tree branch near his feet and picked it up as a makeshift weapon. It wouldn't be much good in its current state, but Shirou's magic circuit was still in place from the reinforcement he had performed on the air conditioner. Shirou once more ran prana though it, analyzing the branch's structure and performing a reinforcement to increase its durability. It was somewhat difficult — Shirou had never tried reinforcing a tree branch before, and so had no practice with its properties — but the urgency of the situation strengthened his resolve and allowed him to focus his concentration to a far greater degree than in even his most fruitful training sessions. Within moments, the soft, decayed wood of the broken branch had become as strong and solid as freshly forged steel.

Then, armed with this primitive club, Shirou gave a shout of protest and ran between the dueling warriors before they could unleash the lethal strikes they'd been building their prana for.

"What are you doing, idiot!? Do you have a death wish or something? Run for your life, moron!"

He'd been expecting one or the other to object to his intervention. To his surprise, however, they looked more dumbfounded than anything; the actual yell of condemnation came not from the fighters but from the observer who'd been watching from the sidelines — Rin Tohsaka, the student who had accosted Sakura in school earlier that day. Just what was up with that girl?

"Tohsaka!" Shirou shot her a concerned glance. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous!"

"That's what I'm asking you!" Rin shrieked. "And if you know that it's dangerous, why haven't you run away?"

"I couldn't run!" Shirou said. "Not when someone's in danger!"

The bow-wielding girl seemed content letting Shirou and Rin talk as long as they wished, but the lance-wielding man's patience ran out. After saying something nonsensical about a "Holy Grail", he attacked.

If he'd been using the same level of strength as when fighting the girl, Shirou wouldn't have stood a chance. However, it seemed the man was taking him lightly, as his strikes lacked their former speed; he seemed almost laid-back as he swung the lance downwards toward's Shirou's collarbone. Shirou raised his branch to block it. The reinforced wood bent under the fearsome force of the spear, but did not break.

The man launched a flurry of follow-up attacks that Shirou could barely keep up with; only his many painful sessions of kendo practice with Taiga saved him, allowing him to anticipate the coming blows by watching the man's balance and movements. Sparks flew as the spear impacted his branch again and again, bending it a little further out of shape each time. Shirou knew he couldn't keep up his defense for long; another few seconds, and he'd be overwhelmed. To his surprise, though, his opponent abruptly broke off the attacks.

"Hmm." the man said appraisingly. "Not many humans would've been able to block those blows. I'm actually a little impressed, kid. So, I'll give you the respect of fighting you seriously."

The man abruptly lunged forwards with speed that Shirou could barely follow, let alone match. Before he had a chance to react, the man had spun about and delivered a vicious kick to Shirou's side. It was a blow strong enough to break his ribs and collapse his chest. Any ordinary human who received such an attack would die instantly. But Shirou was not just any human; he was a magus. In response to the impact, his Magic Circuit flared as he almost instinctually redirected prana to his ribs. Shirou reinforced himself, strengthening his flesh and bones so that they could endure the force of the blue warrior's strike. The price of his survival was pain beyond imagining. It felt as though the entire side of his body was being pierced by thousands of invisible swords. It was too much to bear, and everything faded white as Shirou's consciousness abandoned him.

He came back to his senses a moment later, lying in a school corridor surrounded by shards of broken glass. The force of the kick had apparently been so great as to send Shirou flying across the courtyard and though one of the school's windows. The reinforced branch he'd been using as a club was nowhere in sight, probably having been flung from his hands when he passed out; but Shirou no longer considered fighting the blue-clad man a sensible option anyway. With any luck, the bow-wielding girl and Tohsaka had taken advantage of the distraction he'd provided in order to escape. Now he only had to worry about getting away himself. Ignoring the lingering pain in his side, Shirou pulled himself to his feet and began to run.

He couldn't go directly for the exit — the enemy would be expecting that, and would be able to head him off. Better to take a more unpredictable path. Shirou headed for the nearest stairwell and climbed to the second floor, then began running down the hall. He'd go into one of the empty classrooms, hide in a closet until the danger had passed—

"Yo."

The enemy suddenly spoke from directly behind him, surprising Shirou so much that he stumbled and fell. The man approached Shirou, prepared to skewer him where he had fallen. Shirou tried to pull himself away, but found himself with his back pressed against a locker.

"Done running?" the man asked.

His tone was jovial, as if they were buddies out drinking rather than a murderer and victim.

"Nothing personal, kid." the man continued. "It's just Magic Association rules. No one who witnesses Servants battling can be allowed to live. But, hey. It was pretty for a bit there, wasn't it?"

Shirou genuinely got the sense that the man bore him no particular malice, but that didn't change the fact that the outcome of their encounter would be Shirou's death. Shirou glanced frantically around himself, looking for something he could grab and reinforce — anything to stave of the approaching death, even if only for a single blow longer. And then, a miracle. Like a ghost stepping out of thin air, the bow-wielding girl appeared in the hall behind the lance-wielding man.

"It is a grave insult to turn your back on an opponent." she said.

When the spearman turned around and began to banter with her in his typical frivolous style, Shirou seized the opportunity and run. Without a single glance backwards, he fled the school, ignoring the sound of an explosion behind him.

Shirou's heart burned with shame. He had intervened in the fight in the first place because he wanted to protect others; and yet, he had succumbed to his body's survival instinct and ended up running away. True, he was completely outmatched by the lance-wielding man, while the bow-wielding girl seemed able to stand her own against him; looked at from that perspective, fleeing was the only sensible option. But that didn't change the fact that he had saved himself by leaving another to face danger in his place.

How pathetic. He dreamed of being a hero of justice; and yet when he tried to save a girl, he ended having to be saved by her instead. That wasn't the way Shirou wanted to live. He wanted to be the kind of person who would do anything to save another, even if it meant the sacrifice of his own life. If he couldn't live up to that ideal, then what was the point of living at all?

Shirou stopped running. He had run the entire distance from the school back to his house, and now stood in the yard. However, he hesitated before entering. Taiga would doubtless ask what he had been doing staying out so late. Just saying he had been repairing the air conditioner in the student council room wouldn't do; he was bruised from his fight, his clothes were dirtied and ripped, and he had the unpleasant suspicion that there might be shards of broken glass stuck in his hair. But he couldn't very well tell her the truth, either: while Taiga had been a friend of Kiritsugu, she was not a mage and knew nothing of the world of magic. There was no way he could let an innocent get dragged into whatever dark mage business was happening between Tohsaka, the bow-wielding girl, and the spear-wielding man...

"Yo, again."

As though summoned by Shirou's thoughts, an all-too-familiar laid-back greeting came from behind him. Shirou whirled around to find himself once more staring down the blue-clad man with the red spear. He gave Shirou a cheerful wave.

"Don't tell me you're surprised to see me again." the man said. "Rules of the War aside, I would never let such an interesting prey escape. Show me some more of your fighting spirit, kid."

Shirou turned and ran. This time, there was no guilt or hesitation in his decision: unlike before, there was nobody else in danger. There was no sense in dying meaninglessly, and he understood well enough that he simply couldn't much this man in combat prowess. The fact that he had lived this long was more due to the man's interest in toying with him than anything else. His only hope of survival was escape.

Trying to run across open ground would be futile; the enemy was much faster than him, and would simply spear him in the back. Instead, Shirou ran for the nearest cover: the toolshed where he practiced his magecraft. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got there; it was a dead-end, with no other exits. For the moment, however, he decided to focus simply on reaching the toolshed alive. If he somehow managed to make it that far, then maybe he could afford to worry about what to do next. Until then, he thought of nothing but running, lunging the final few feet through the toolshed door, and slamming it behind him.

Somewhat to his surprise, he made it. Given the inhuman speed the man had demonstrated when kicking Shirou earlier, he'd figured he would've been skewered after covering no more than half the distance to the door. Once again, it seemed he was merely being toyed with.

A moment later, the enemy walked into the toolshed; not through the door, which Shirou was hurriedly locking, but through the wall. His body seemed to become ghost-like as he passed through the shed's wall, then solid again once he fully emerged. A moment later, his red spear reappeared in his hand. Shirou instinctive impulse was to back away, but his back was to the door that he himself had just finished locking

"Nowhere left to run, kid." the man said. "Nothing to do but fight until you die. Try not to make this too one-sided, okay? I'll be real disappointed if it turns out I overestimated your abilities."

The glittering red spear swung upwards at Shirou's stomach, trying to gut him like a fish. Shirou had expected that the man would strike as soon as he had finished speaking, and so was already moving backwards. However, because he hadn't had time to take in his surroundings, he misjudged his step. He knew the general layout of the toolshed well enough, having spent so much time practicing his magecraft there over the years; but what he didn't have memorized was the layout of all the various items strewn across the floor. As he tried to dodge backwards, he stepped on the remains of the lamp he'd broken during the previous night's magecraft practice, and his feet went flying out from under him.

Shirou tumbled over backwards. The good news was that his fall at least carried him out of the range of the man's spear, which swept through the air where he'd been standing a moment earlier. However, now that he was lying on the ground, Shirou was no longer capable of moving fast enough to dodge the enemy's strikes. As soon as the man stepped into range, it would be over. Shirou tried to scramble backwards across the floor, but there was nowhere to go; he soon found himself cornered, amidst the remains of an old magic circle that his father had inscribed on the shed floor long ago. Trapped, he could do nothing but stare at his oncoming death.

_...The blue-clad man thrust his red lance at Shirou's chest. The lance shot forwards like lightning. It was a strike that would certainly pierce Shirou's heart. Rather, it felt like it had already pierced his heart. The outcome of his heart being pierced was certain; the completion of the thrust was a mere formality._

_There was a flash of golden light. The sound of metal striking metal and being repelled.__.._

And she appeared before him: the female knight with an invisible sword, who called herself Saber and addressed him as her Master. And before she could explain what was occurring, he arrived: the one-eyed, one-armed man who also claimed the name of Saber. And no sooner had they confronted each other than the bounded field screeched warning of still more intruders, and the three of them rushed outside to find Rin Tohsaka, also with a man and a girl standing by her side: the bow-wielding girl who Shirou had seen fighting earlier, and a man in a red coat who looked at Shirou with contemptuous eyes.

And though Shirou understood nothing of what was going on, one thing was abundantly clear: Shirou's world would never be the same again.


	14. Day 2 Shirou Blackened Church

**Day 2: Shirou — Blackened Church**

Six people sat around the table in Shirou's living room. Sitting to either side of Shirou were the knightly woman and the one-eyed, one-armed man. Across from him was Rin Tohsaka, flanked by a knight in a red coat and the girl who had used a black bow. There was an uneasy tension in the air.

When the female knight had seen Rin and her two companions, she'd looked like she wanted to attack them. However, since she was also distrustful of the one-armed man, it had been pretty clear that a fight would be highly disadvantageous. Shirou had been able to convince her to lower her invisible blade and had gone to talk to Rin. To his surprise, she had formally requested a one-night truce so they could parlay. Dumbstruck, Shirou had agreed. Which brought them to where they were now.

"Emiya." Rin said. "We've been classmates at school for a while; but since I didn't know you were a magus, I never introduced myself properly. Allow me to do so now. I am Rin Tohsaka, heir to the Tohsaka family and supervisor of the Fuyuki territory. Accompanying me at the moment are the Servants I summoned for the Holy Grail War. As they are both of the Archer class, you may call them Red Archer and Black Archer."

Before Shirou could think of a proper response to that overly-formal introduction, the one-eyed, one-armed man spoke up.

Hi, nice to meet you." he said. "My name's Kiyomasa Senji, but people usually just call me Crow."

Rin's mouth fairly dropped open at his casual greeting. The two Archers also both looked slightly surprised, and the female knight fairly bristled at his demeanor.

"You should not give your name so carelessly!" she said. "A Servant's name and their Noble Phantasm are among the most jealously guarded secrets of the Holy Grail War. Even if we are under temporary truce, these Servants will still eventually be enemies."

"Well, yeah, but it'd be confusing for the kid who summoned us if he had to call us both Saber." Crow said. "This way, he can call you Saber and me Crow. You still get to keep your identity secret, while I think mine was pretty obvious from the outset. I mean, if you're talking one-eyed, one-armed swordsmen, it's pretty much just me and Tenge Sazen."

"If it was truly out of consideration for me, then I suppose I should thank you." Saber said, frowning. "However... it disturbs me that I do not recognize your name, nor do I know this 'Tenge Sazen' you speak of."

"Um, pardon me, but..." Shirou said. "Could someone please explain all of this to me? Like, what's all about Masters and Servants and the Holy Grail."

There was silence as the five other people at the table all stared at him.

"You mean you don't know?" Rin asked.

"Um, no." Shirou said.

"You did call me, did you not?" Saber asked. "By performing the summoning ritual over a magic circle with a suitable catalyst?"

"Well, I fell into the circle when the man with the lance attacked me, but I didn't perform any ritual or anything." Shirou said. "And I don't know what you mean by catalyst; but if you're referring to some type of magic artifact, I don't own anything as fancy or valuable as that."

More blank stares. Rin made a sound like she was choking.

"You... you..." she sputtered. "You're a complete amateur! A total know-nothing! And yet somehow, without even a catalyst, you managed to summon two Sabers, the most powerful class of Servant in the Holy Grail War!?"

"If you would just tell me what this Holy Grail War is, I might understand why you think that matters." Shirou said.

Rin sighed and rested her face in her hands.

"Unbelievable." she said. "Well, I guess we have no choice. I can't put it off any longer; we have to go see that shitty fake priest."

* * *

Shirou knew well of Kotomine Church, though he'd never been there. The church had cared for many orphans in the aftermath of the devastating fire that had ravaged the city ten years ago, but Shirou had not been among them; he had instead chosen to live as the adopted son of Kiritsugu Emiya, the magus who had saved him. The church itself had been near the center of the fire, and had been almost completely rebuilt afterwards. It was one of only a few buildings in the area to have undergone such reconstruction; much of the surroundings had instead been turned into a commemorative park. It was supposed to memorialize those whose lives had been lost in the fire, but Shirou always found it a dour and gloomy place; as though it symbolized the unspoken truth that people had surrendered to their painful memories by abandoning the area instead of trying to revitalize it.

Rin led Shirou to that tragedy-touched church, saying that the priest there could explain everything. She instructed the Archers and Sabers to wait outside; then brought Shirou in to the church, where they were greeted by the resident priest. He gave them a smile, but Shirou didn't sense any warmth in it. Rin didn't return the smile, instead going straight to the introduction.

"This is Kirie Kotomine, my guardian and magecraft teacher." Rin said. "He's serving as Overseer of this War on behalf of the Holy Church, ensuring that all participating magi follow the rules. He can answer any questions you have — if you can tolerate him long enough to ask them."

"He's a member of the Church... and also a magus?" Shirou said, confused. "And he's your guardian, but also supposed to be neutral? Aren't those contradictions?"

"Man is by nature full of contradiction." the priest said, speaking in a resonant baritone. "It is indeed unusual for a man of Church to become a magus, but certain circumstances led me to become apprenticed to young Rin's father, Tokiomi Tohsaka. When he and his wife unfortunately passed away ten years ago, I received guardianship of Rin and of the Tohsaka estate."

"Nice job you've done managing it, by the way." Rin interjected.

"It is a virtue to live humbly and without excess; and you are far from impoverished." Kotomine said, a slightly reproving tone in his voice. "I any event, with my apprenticeship ended, I returned to the service of the Church. As for my impartiality, let me assure you: I will show Rin no special favor. No one who has been trained as a magus can fail to understand that it is necessary to put one's personal feelings aside for the sake of one's duty."

Shirou felt a strange pang of dislike for the priest. He agreed with what Kotomine was saying, that it was necessary to ignore one's emotions for the sake of doing what was right, but didn't like the way he was saying it. Kotomine said it so easily, it was like the necessity didn't pain him; almost as though he didn't have any such feelings in the first place. Staring into the priest's dark eyes, Shirou wondered exactly what sort of man he was.

"Something unusual's been going on with this War." Rin said, apparently oblivious to the tension Shirou was feeling. "When I summoned my Servant, I received two Archers. And this kid, he got two Sabers. Do you know anything about how one Master might get two Servants of the same class?"

"It is unusual, to be sure, but not entirely without precedent." Kotomine said. "During the Third War, two Edelfelt Masters were chosen — a pair of identical twins. Each summoned a Servant of the Saber class, so there were two Sabers in that War."

"I was aware of that, but that was because of the Ore Scales trait of the Edelfelt bloodline." Rin said, speaking the name 'Edelfelt' with a measure of distaste. "It wouldn't explain us getting two Servants."

"Um... What are these _Ore Scales_ things?" Shirou asked.

"It's a Sorcery Trait that's found in the Edelfelt bloodline." Rin said, as though that explained everything.

"And, uh... what exactly is a Sorcery Trait...?" Shirou had to ask.

"Wow, you really are a half-assed magus if you don't even know that much." Rin said. "Let me put it in simple terms: a Sorcery Trait is a special ability that is passed down through a magus bloodline. The Edelfelt family is one such bloodline, and their trait is Ore Scales. It allows them to have two heirs to their magecraft, whereas in other magi families it is only possible for a single child to inherit the Magic Crest. The point is, their Ore Scales let them get two Servants that one time; but since neither of us have the Ore Scales trait, it can't explain how we ended up with two Servants."

The world of magecraft was far vaster than Shirou had ever imagined. Even though he'd known his father alone wouldn't be able to give him a complete education in magecraft, Shirou had though that he'd at least understood the basics. But it seemed that he had simply lacked the understanding of the depth of his own ignorance.

"I can think of one other precedent for multiple Servants of the same Class." Kotomine said. "During the Fourth War, my own Servant was the Hundred-Faced Hassan-i-Sabbah. His Noble Phantasm, Zabaniya, allowed him to manifest in up to eighty separate bodies."

"But they were all still a part of the same Servant, right?" Rin asked. "We both seem to have summoned two entire separate, unconnected Servants of the same class. There also appear to be two Lancers serving two different Masters, which wouldn't be possible if they were incarnations of a single Servant."

"I see." Kotomine said. "Most troubling. Be assured that I will investigate this matter further in my role as Overseer of the Holy Grail War."

"Oh, one other thing." Rin said. "This guy's been chosen as a Master; but as you've probably already gathered from his questions, he's completely hopeless as a magus and totally clueless about the War. Fill him in on the important details, would you?"

With that, she turned around and began walking towards the door.

"You're leaving?" Shirou asked.

"That damned priest loves the sound of his own voice." Rin said without turning back. "He's probably going to blather on for hours. I already know all of this stuff, so I'm not going to sit and listen to him explain it all over again. Come find me outside when you're done."

She turned and exited the church without a second glance. Kotomine, in turn, didn't even watch her go. Shirou got the feeling that the relationship between the two was a bit complicated. But rather than dwell on that, he turned to the priest and awaited the promised explanation.

"The Holy Grail War." Kotomine intoned deeply, as though speaking God's own name. "I suppose it would be best to start from the beginning. Tell me, what do you know of the goal traditionally sought by magi?"

"To reach Akasha, the Swirl of the Root." Shirou said. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what that means, but my father said it was really important to some of the more traditional magi."

"That is correct." Kotomine said. "Akasha is the origin of the Universe. It is the ultimate source of all events and all phenomena; the archive of all past, present, and possible future events. For years beyond counting, magi have striven to open a path that would lead them to the Root. However, because it exists outside of the physical and metaphysical boundaries of the World, no mundane method can ever succeed. And magecraft, for all its dazzling glory, simply reproduces the mundane through arcane methods. To truly reach Akasha requires something that is unto magecraft as the sun's fire is unto the flame of a guttering candle."

Memories surfaced in Shirou's mind of the time when Kiritsugu had first revealed to him that he was a magus. In particular, the distinction he had drawn between magi and Sorcerers...

"You're talking about Sorcery." Shirou said. "The five True Magics, which surpass human ability and approach the level of the gods. Let's see, there's Kaleidoscope, which deals with parallel worlds... Magic Blue, which is something to do with time travel, I think... and, um, I forget the others. I didn't pay much attention since I was told that they were beyond even the greatest magi, let alone a half-baked one like me."

"Impossible?" Kotomine smiled. "Nearly impossible, perhaps. But the difference between 'impossible' and 'nearly impossible' is infinite in breadth; and humans are striving, always striving, to attain that which is forever beyond their grasp. And three hundred years ago, a group of magi came up with a method for reproducing the Third True Magic: that which is known as Heaven's Feel, or the Cup of Heaven."

"The Holy Grail." Shirou said.

"Indeed." Kotomine said. "Though, as a man of the cloth, I must point out that this Sorcery is unrelated to the religious artifact commonly referred to by the same name."

"I understand." Shirou said. "Go on."

"Creating the Holy Grail was a great undertaking, far too big for a single magus family to complete on their own." Kotomine said. "The Einzbern family had struggled alone for generations to fabricate a Holy Grail, but they could not complete the Sorcery: though they could manufacture the Cup of Heaven, they could not produce the contents. The Tohsaka family, from which my young apprentice Rin is descended, had likewise worked for many generations without getting any closer to the Root. And so finally a group of magi, normally so obsessed with keeping their magecraft a secret from outsiders, decided to work together to achieve what none of them could individually. It took seven magi in total, combining their powers and respective areas of expertise, to create the Heaven's Feel: a grand ritual for filling the Cup of Heaven and using its power to unlock the path to Akasha. Together, they were able to arrive at the Third Sorcery."

"They succeeded?" Shirou asked "Then what is the Holy Grail War?"

"They succeeded... in a manner of speaking." Kotomine said, smiling sardonically. "The seven magi produced an omnipotent wish granting machine that could grant any desire, even to reach the Root... but it was only capable of granting one wish. While the more traditional magi families held on to their dream of opening a path to Akasha, many of the other participating families had moved on to desiring more worldly objectives: wealth, power, immortality, the usual such things. Unable to agree on how this once-in-a-lifetime miracle should be used, the magi turned on one another. And that is how the Holy Grail Wars began."

"And they've been going on in secret ever since?" Shirou said.

"Not continuously." Kotomine said. "The Einzbern family can produce as many cups, or 'Lesser Grails', as they wish; however, the Heaven's Feel ritual, or 'Great Grail', can only supply enough power to fill one cup every sixty years or so. The War that you have been selected to participate in as a Master is the Fifth."

"That explains the origin of the War, but I still don't get what it involves." Shirou said. "Like, what's all this Master and Servant stuff I've been hearing about?"

"It is the method by which the Holy Grail chooses who is worthy of possessing it." Kotomine said. "Each time the War begins anew, the Grail selects seven Masters, each of whom summons a Servant to compete in a battle royale. Each Servant is an epic spirit, a legendary soul whose great deeds have allowed them to be enshrined in the Throne of Heroes for all time. Through the Third Sorcery, they are once more granted life and allowed to compete for the chance to have a wish of their own granted by the Grail. When only one Master-Servant team remains, the Grail will descend and they will be able to make their wish."

"So my Sabers are famous heroes from history?" Shirou said. "One introduced himself as Kiyomasa Senji, but I don't recognize that name from any legend. And the other didn't want to tell me her name, since she was afraid her enemies might use it against her..."

"A wise precaution." Kotomine said. "Learning a Servant's true identity is often the first step in figuring out how to defeat it. If you figure out that your opponent is Achilles, then you know to aim for the heel. As for not recognizing the name of a Servant, there are a number of possibilities. Not all Heroic Spirits are equal: in addition to famous heroes of legend, there are also anonymous Counter-Guardians and nameless Wraiths who you may not have heard of. Because the Throne of Heroes exists outside of time, it can even summon heroes from the future who may not even have been born in the current era. In any case, Servants summoned by the Grail receive knowledge about the other souls within the Throne of Heroes; thus, even if you lack the knowledge to identify a particularly obscure Servant, your own Servant should be able to piece the clues together."

"You said that the Holy Grail War is a battle royale." Shirou said. "Does that mean that the winner has to kill the other Masters?"

"Not necessarily." Kotomine said. "The Holy Grail will manifest when only one Servant remains, regardless of how many Masters are left alive. A Master who has lost his Servant, or who has lost the three Command Spells that give him his status as a Master, can drop out of the War and seek sanctuary at the church. I myself did so in the previous War, as the Assassin-class Servant I summoned was the first to be eliminated, and thus survived my loss."

"I see." Shirou said. "So it's only the Servants who fight to the death. That's a relief."

"Not necessarily." Kotomine repeated. "Even if it is not necessary to eliminate enemy Masters, it is often expedient. After all, a Servant cannot last long without a Master, and killing a human is much easier than killing a Heroic Spirit, so the easiest way to defeat a powerful Servant is to kill its Master. Furthermore, just losing one's Servant does not eliminate a Master from the War. It is still possible for them to make a contract with a Servant who has lost their original Master, thus forming a new team. Thus, any Master who does not give up their Command Spells and seek refuge at the church is considered a valid target. That is the nature of this War."

"That's wrong!" Shirou said. "I don't care if it's a wish-granting device or the path to the Root or whatever; nothing's worth people killing each other over!"

"Such a naive outlook will not get you far in this War." Kotomine said. "There are many wishes which people are willing to kill to obtain. When choosing the Masters who have the right to compete for it, the Grail often selects those who have a strong reason to desire it — those who have the will and conviction to do what is necessary to win."

"Then it must have made a mistake in choosing me." Shirou said. "I don't care at all about some stupid Sorcery that grants wishes. I'm certainly not going to kill anyone over it!"

Kotomine shrugged.

"The Holy Grail is required to choose seven Masters, regardless of how many truly suitable contenders are available. It is not unheard of for those without particular ambition for the Grail to be picked simply to round out the full set. It is possible that you were picked simply because you are a magus."

"But there must be tons of magi in the world more qualified than me." Shirou asked. "I'm not really a true magus. I don't even have a Magic Crest. All I know is the few bits of magecraft taught to me by my father, Kiritsugu."

The priest paused for a moment.

"I don't believe Tohsaka introduced you." Kotomine said. "What might your name be?"

"I'm Shirou Emiya." Shirou said.

"Emiya... of course." Kotomine said, nodding as though Shirou had explained one of the great mysteries of the Universe.

"What do you mean by that?" Shirou asked suspiciously.

"All I can say for certain is that the Grail has chosen you." Kotomine said. "No one fully understands the selection criteria the Grail uses in picking the Masters; but without a doubt, it considers you one of those worthy of competing to possess it. If you believe you have no need of the Grail, then perhaps it has seen something in your heart which even you yourself are unaware of. Ultimately, the simple fact remains: you, Shirou Emiya, have been chosen for the Fifth Heaven's Feel."

"Like I give a damn." Shirou said.

"If you truly do not desire to participate, you may waste your three Command Spells, release your Servant to seek a contract with another Master, and remain in the Church until the War has concluded." Kotomine said. "However, consider carefully before making your decision. Because this I can guarantee: the other Masters will fight for the Grail. Ambition and desire burn brightly in their hearts, and they will slaughter each other without restrain in order to obtain their wish. And if the prevailing magus should be one with an impure heart, the desire the Grail fulfills for them would be... well, surely you have not forgotten the fire of ten years ago."

A black sun. A sea of flames. The despairing screams of the damned. These memories, carved into Shirou's soul, were something he would never in his life be able to forget.

"What do you mean by that?" Shirou asked stiffly.

"Oh, pardon me." Kotomine said. "I said that the Holy Grail War usually occurs every 60 years; but actually, it's come a bit early this time. The Fourth Heaven's Feel was only ten years ago. During that War, one of the Masters actually managed to lay hands on the Grail. However, before that Master could have his wish granted, another Master ruined the ritual by breaking the Lesser Grail. Even so, the result was..."

Kotomine swept his hands out, as though wiping the pieces off a chessboard, and smiled serenely.

"The Grail can be used that way!?" Shirou demanded. "It would grant that kind of wish!?"

"As I said before, do not be misled by the name into thinking that the Grail is something holy that will grant only pure desires." Kotomine said. "It is a Sorcery designed to grant one's wish — regardless of what that wish may be. Should the winning magus make an evil wish, the Holy Grail will grant it as readily as a good one."

"I can't allow that." Shirou said. "I can't allow anything like that fire to happen ever again!"

"Then fight, Shirou Emiya." Kotomine said. "If you do not seek to make a wish upon the Grail for yourself, then win it to keep it from the hands of those who would use it for malicious ends. Only the winner has the right to determine how the Grail is used — so if you would prevent another disastrous wish, you must emerge victorious."

"Alright." Shirou said. "My mind's made up. Thank you for your help."

Shirou had just started to step towards the exit when Kotomine spoke again.

"Rejoice, Shirou Emiya." the priest said. "Your wish will finally be granted."

Shirou stopped.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked. "I told you I don't have any wish for myself, didn't I?"

"No wish for the Grail, perhaps." Kotomine said. "But whether you admit it or not, you do have an unquenchable desire burning within your heart. Your impassioned words about preventing another disaster make it all too clear. You, Shirou Emiya, desire to be a hero."

"And what's wrong with that!?" Shirou demanded. "Isn't it good to want to save people? Isn't it right to want to protect people? Why shouldn't I want to become a hero?"

"In order to be a hero, one requires a villain to strive against." Kotomine said. "The expression of good requires evil for it to be contrasted against: hope in opposition to despair, forgiveness in opposition to retribution, death in opposition to life. The deeper the darkness, the brighter the light that shines within it. It is a dichotomy that has tormented humanity for thousands of years, that the existence of good requires the existence of evil. You, who desire to be a hero, have never had the opportunity because you have never had any villains to face. But now that chaos, murder, and bloodshed are about to descend on Fuyuki, you will be given a chance to prove yourself. To destroy those who bring destruction, and to ascend to your goal atop a mountain of corpses."

"My goal isn't to kill anyone." Shirou said. "All I want to do is protect the innocent. If there are any unsuitable Masters, I'll stop them from obtaining the Grail; but you yourself said it wasn't necessary to kill them. I just have to make them give up their Command Spells so they stop being Masters and drop out of the War. I won't kill some to save others. A true hero saves everyone."

"It is no small thing, to be chosen by the Holy Grail." Kotomine said. "Those picked as Masters usually have a reason to desire it strongly, and will not be easily convinced to forsake their Command Spells. The simplest way to sever a contract against a Master's will is to amputate their arm — and even then, they could make a contract with another Servant, and the Grail would return their Command Spells on their other arm. The only certain way to permanently remove a Master from the war is to kill them — hence the necessity of this church. And even its hospitality has been abused; my own father was murdered here during the previous war."

There was no hint of sorrow in Kotomine's voice as he said this; to him, it was simply a statement of fact. The lack of emotion was subtly disturbing; just how heartless did a man have to be to speak of such a thing so casually?

"It is called the Holy Grail War because people die." the priest continued. "If you do not kill, you will assuredly be killed. That is the nature of war. It is impossible for anyone to change that."

"If my wish really will be granted as you say, then there's nothing to worry about." Shirou said, his tone hardening slightly. "Because heroes are heroes precisely because they can achieve the impossible."

For some reason, the priest let out a laugh upon hearing those words.

"Is that what you believe the true nature of a hero is?" Kotomine asked. "How wonderful. It has been a long time since I have met anyone so naive. Soon you will discover that the weight of your ideals is an impossible burden to carry; and what will you do then? Will you be driven to betray those principles by which you have thus far lived your entire life? Or will you try to endure the unendurable; turn your mind to steel and hold on to your ideals no matter how many times they betray you? I truly look forwards to seeing the consequences of your participation in this war. Do your best, Shirou Emiya, for I will be watching with interest."

There was really nothing Shirou could say to that, so he turned his back on the sinister priest and walked out of the church.

* * *

Rin was waiting outside with the Servants.

"Have you made a decision?" Rin asked.

"I have." Shirou affirmed.

"Judging by the look of stupid determination on your face, I suppose it's too much to hope for that you're going to do the sensible thing and drop out." Rin said.

"There's too much at stake for that." Shirou said. "I don't care about the Heaven's Feel or Third True Magic or anything like that... but if this Grail is as powerful as everyone says, then I can't risk it falling into the wrong hands. I have to fight. And for that, I'll need my Servants' power."

He turned to the two figures who had appeared by his summons. Epic spirits, Kotomine had called them; legendary souls whose great deeds had shaped the history of the world. Shirou could tell from having seen just one battle that he would be helpless against such adversaries on his own. If he was going to have to stop magi who commanded Servants, his only chance would be to use Servants of his own.

"Saber, I accept you as my Servant." Shirou said. "And Crow, I would be honored to form a proper contract with you as well."

"I would advise against that." Rin said. "Maintaining the material form of a heroic spirit requires a great deal of prana. A novice like you would be hard-pressed to handle one Servant, let alone two. Trying to support both will greatly decrease the efficacy of each."

For some reason, Red Archer and Black Archer glanced at each other and shook their heads.

"I don't want to turn Crow down." Shirou said. "He appeared without a contract to me; but despite having no obligation to help me, he chose to offer me his service instead of running off to find another Master. That tells me he's a good person."

"Don't be an idiot." Rin said. "It's pure self-interest. The Servants are only fighting to have their wishes granted, same as the Masters."

The two Archers again shook their heads in exasperated unison behind their Master's back. Despite the fact that they were her Servants, Shirou got the feeling that they weren't operating on exactly the same wavelength as their Master.

"I think it'll be fine." Shirou said. "Kiritsugu once told me that, since I can only do one specific type of magecraft, I don't even use the majority of my magic circuits in the first place. I can spare the prana. You guys don't have any objections, right?"

"None." Saber said.

"Anything's better than nothing." Crow said.

"Alright." Rin said, raising her hands and acquiescing. "I'll help you make the contract. Repeat after me: 'I command thee to my side and entrust my fate in thine sword...'"

As he recited the words Rin gave him, Shirou's Command Spells burned with red light, and he knew that he had truly become a participant in the Holy Grail War.


	15. Day 2 Kotomine King of Heroes

**Day 2: Kotomine — King Of Heroes**

As Shirou Emiya left the church, Kirie Kotomine closed the doors behind him. No sooner had they slammed shut than a voice spoke behind him.

"What do you think, Kirie?"

Kotomine calmly turned around. A man had seemingly stepped from thin air to take a seat on one of the benches. He draped himself across it with a casual arrogance, as though intentionally disrespecting the sanctity of the church. He was strikingly handsome, with boyish good looks and golden hair, but his eyes were disturbingly inhuman. Red in color and with pupils slitted like a snake's, they tracked Kotomine as he walked back down the aisle.

"This is a truly pleasing turn of events." Kotomine said. "A boy raised by Kiritsugu Emiya, who has summoned a Servant of the Saber class, and who wishes to become a hero... I have not the slightest doubt that he will make it to the end of the war and oppose me just as his father did. And perhaps... he will finally fulfill my desire, of finding another soul as empty as mine."

"I was actually talking about the situation with the irregular Servants." the man said lazily. "Though it pleases me to know that your passion has not diminished after the disappointment with Kiritsugu ten years ago."

"My apologies, Gilgamesh." Kotomine said. "It seems I allowed my fascination with the Emiya boy to sidetrack me. You are correct; figuring the reason behind the Grail's irregularity should be our most pressing concern."

Kotomine had not lied to Emiya or Tohsaka; lying was something for witless fools too dumb to deceive using the truth. He had indeed summoned the Assassin-class Servant Hassan-i-Sabbah in the previous War; said Servant had indeed been the first to be eliminated; and he had indeed taken sanctuary at the Church. That the sanctuary had been under false pretenses, that he had retained his Command Spells, that he had forged a new contract with the Archer-class Servant Gilgamesh, that he had maintained said contract following the War's end... these were things that he had simply seen fit not to mention. Not that he intended to keep them secret forever, but the timing of the revelation was crucial. A good betrayal was like a good wine: the longer it was allowed to age, the more exquisite the reward when it was finally drunk.

Not that Kotomine actually enjoyed wine. While he had the skill and taste to single out the most refined vintages, drinking it did not give him any joy. Betrayal, on the other hand, was something he could truly savor. He was still considering the best way to tell young Rin the truth about her father's death.

"According to Tohsaka, she has summoned two Servants of the Archer class and Emiya has summoned two of the Saber class." Kotomine said. "I have only her word for this, as she did not directly show them to me; it seems that, while not certain I am an enemy, she is at least intelligent enough to hold me in healthy suspicion. However, given the anomaly we observed at Lancer's summoning, it seems likely to assume that there are two of every Servant."

Lancer's Master was a trusted associate of Kotomine's. It had originally been his plan to kill her the moment she summoned her Servant and take Lancer into his own service. However, he'd decided to forego the pleasure of that betrayal when Gilgamesh had reported an irregular second Servant of the Lancer class appearing nearby when the summoning took place. Kotomine instead kept Lancer and his Master distracted while Gilgamesh covertly observed the abnormal Servant. It had eventually come into contact with Luviagelita Edelfelt, a magus on assignment from the London Clock Tower. Though she appeared to not initially understand what was going on, upon realizing that she had encountered a Servant with no Master, she had attempted to form a contract with it. The effort appeared to succeed, and the Grail bestowed upon her the three Command Spells that denoted Master status.

"I can confirm the existence of a second Rider." Gilgamesh said. "Last night, when the Caster at Ryuudou Temple began dispatching familiars to harvest prana, a group of them seem to have come across Rider and had a confrontation with it. The Rider resorted to its Noble Phantasm to escape: the two-tailed giant white wolf which you no doubt have heard about on the news. The Servant is clearly of spectacularly low quality if it was forced to use a Noble Phantasm against mere constructs; but from the fact that its Noble Phantasm was not familiar to me, I can state with confidence that the mongrel was one of the irregular Servants."

Gilgamesh was the eldest king in human history, who had ruled a quarter of the world; and he was the first epic hero, from whose tale all subsequent heroic epics had been derived. All the world's treasures could be traced back to Gilgamesh's vault, and all Noble Phantasms were mere derivatives of the original prototypes he possessed. The irregular Lancer which had appeared, however, wielded a giant two-pronged lance which Gilgamesh recognized neither from his own treasures nor from the knowledge granted him as a Servant by the Throne of Heroes. It was a bizarre aberration which should not exist in this world; and Gilgamesh was saying that the Rider he had observed last night had been the same way. As the properly summoned Lancer had been a proper hero — Cu Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster — this aberrant Rider had likely appeared in response to a proper Rider being summoned.

"Do you think these aberrations are a consequence of the corruption of the ritual by Angra Mainyu?" Gilgamesh asked.

Angra Mainyu! It was not so much a name as a curse. _Accept and suffer all evils of this world!_ But to Kotomine, it was a name he held in greater reverence than God's. For, despite being God's very antithesis, it was the one existence that Kotomine felt true kinship with.

"...Unlikely." Kotomine said after some consideration. "Angra Mainyu is, of course, having some noticeable effects on the Heaven's Feel: the fact that the ritual has begun anew after only ten years rather than the usual sixty is probably due to its overflowing power and urgency to be born. However, if the additional Servants were called by Angra Mainyu, I would expect them to be degenerate and corrupt heroes like the Caster and Berserker of the previous War. But both Lancers seemed to be pure and unsullied heroes; untouched by its influence. The appearance of the irregular Servants likely has a different cause."

"It seems an improbable coincidence, though, for the Heaven's Feel to be warped in two such major and yet unrelated ways." Gilgamesh said.

"That is true enough." Kotomine said. "Perhaps it is not entirely unrelated. But in any case, it will be impossible to make any sort of observation of Angra Mainyu until the War progresses and the Grail begins to manifest. Thus, for the moment, I will focus on investigating other possibilities."

"What do you have in mind?" Gilgamesh asked.

"If the alteration to the ritual has come from without the Grail rather than from within, the only ones who have sufficient knowledge and understanding of the Great Grail to affect such a change are the three families who constructed it in the first place: Einzbern, Tohsaka, and Makiri; and the one who supervised them, Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. The old Sorcerer can be ruled out as a matter of course; he remains at the London Clock Tower. Furthermore, young Rin can also be ruled out; her youth and inexperience aside, she has been under my constant supervision for the past ten years. That leaves the primary candidates for any meddling as the Einzbern or the Makiri; specifically, their heads Jubstacheit and Zouken."

"You think one of them might be responsible?" Gilgamesh asked.

"It is what I am inclined to believe at the moment." Kotomine said. "The Einzbern have meddled in the functioning of the Grail before; it was some ill-advised tampering with the ritual on their part that led to the summoning of Angra Mainyu in the first place. And Zouken Makiri, he is the only living person other than myself who knows of Angra Mainyu's corruption of the Grail — and thus the one with the greatest incentive to attempt to alter the ritual, as he knows that it is in its current state incapable of granting his wish. I will investigate further and inform you of my findings."

"And what should I do, Kirie?" Gilgamesh asked. "I feel less inclined to continue lurking in the shadows like some common mongrel now that this abnormal War has caught my interest."

"This is a rather fortuitous turn of events for you, King of Heroes." Kotomine said. "With so many irregular Servants having appeared, your existence will not be considered so unusual if you are spotted. If you would like to gather information on the Masters and Servants, I would be much obliged. It seems that some Masters such as Rin Tohsaka have contracted two Servants, while some other Servants have brought new Masters like Luviagelita Edelfelt into the War. Knowing the total number of Masters and how many Servants each possesses would be most useful."

"Consider it done." Gilgamesh said. "Though such mongrels would normally be beneath my attention, it will be suitable entertainment until the Grail appears and the curtain rises on the true show."

With that, the presence of the golden King of Heroes vanished from the church, leaving Kotomine alone with his thoughts.

Soon now, the Cup of Heaven would spill its poisoned contents. The curse embodying All Evils of This World would be born into the world that was incapable of anything but despising and rejecting it. And from Angra Mainyu, Kotomine would learn the meaning of a meaningless life. The purpose of the life of one who was defective from birth, born inherently evil without possibility of redemption. What it meant to live, when one's existence brought only pain and sorrow to others. How to find joy, when one's only joy was to inflict suffering on those undeserving of it.

That was the Holy Grail which Kirie Kotomine yearned for from the depths of his dark and accursed heart.


	16. Day 2 Luvia Soul Eater

**Day 2: Luvia — Soul-Eater**

The Fuyuki serial killer had struck again.

Luvia's search spell led her to the scene of the crime. An ordinary looking house, the front door was ominously broken. The killer had been here, and recently; though, from the fact that no sounds of violence came from the house, it seemed like they had already moved on. The first step was to secure the scene: the less disturbance there was to the evidence, the more she'd be able to learn about the serial killer magus. Luvia placed down five gems in a pattern around the house, then spoke words to activate the magecraft.

"Begin instructions." Luvia said. "Establish bounded field. Isolate enclosed area. Repel intruders by method of confusion and disorientation. Access permission: magus Luviagelita Edelfelt and Lancer-class Servant Rei Ayanami. Induce sleep in entities within boundary. End condition: termination by authorized user. Instruction complete."

Such a powerful spell would normally be beyond the capacity of Luvia's magecraft. However, knowing that it might be necessary for Luvia's investigation, Lord El-Melloi II had constructed the spell and embedded it into a set of gems. Luvia had only to provide them with the necessary parameters and prana, and the pre-constructed spell would activate. It was effectively a Mystic Code: a magical artifact with a narrow, predetermined usage that could be performed regardless of its user's inherent capability in that area of magecraft. Having now set the parameters for the usage, all that was left was for her to turn it on.

"Aktivieren."

Operating on Luvia's instructions, the activated spell enveloped the house in a barrier invisible to all but spiritually sensitive beings like magi and Servants. It would allow entry or exit only to Luvia and Rei; anyone else trying to approach the house would find themselves disoriented and confused. Furthermore, any humans inside the house should have been put into a deep state of magically-endued sleep. Nobody would interfere with her investigation, save for one possibility: that the perpetrator might in fact still be present, waiting in ambush. The Fuyuki serial killer was suspected to be a magus; and depending on the extent of his ability, he might very well be capable of constructing a spell that would counter the one which was supposed to put him to sleep.

"Go in and check for danger." Luvia told her Servant.

"Understood."

The pale, blue-haired girl nodded her acknowledgment and then entered the building without hesitation. Luvia still didn't have a very strong understanding of her Servant. She'd always thought Heroic Spirits had powerful egos and were incredibly difficult to control, hence the need for Command Spells. This Lancer, however, was almost pathologically obedient and submissive. When Luvia had asked what wish she had for the Holy Grail, she'd stated that she didn't have a wish; that it was simply her purpose to serve.

Even more disconcerting were the details that Luvia had cajoled out of her about her life. The Servant had given her name as Rei Ayanami, then given a bizarre and at times incomprehensible account of her battles against beings she called "Angels". As best Luvia could understand, Rei was a homunculus specially created to battle these beings, which from her description seemed to be the entities more commonly known as the Aristoteles, the Ultimate Ones. But in so many places, Rei's account contradicted common knowledge that Luvia had been taught during her training. Everyone knew that the Ultimate One of the Moon was Crimson Moon Brunestud, who had been defeated by the great Sorcerer Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg's use of the Second True Magic. However, Rei spoke of a completely different entity called Black Progenitor Lilith, who had been kept imprisoned deep beneath the surface of the world using a larger version of the Noble Phantasm she wielded.

The Throne of Heroes, from which the souls of epic spirits were called to take form as Servants, existed outside of time. It was therefore possible to summon Servants from many different possible alternate futures. Now, for the first time, Luvia found herself wondering if it was also possible to summon Servants from alternate _pasts_; from parallel worlds where history had unfolded along different lines. That seemed to be the only explanation for the strange history that this Servant spoke of.

Rei returned to the doorway of the house.

"There is no danger." she reported.

Luvia followed her Servant into the house. The first thing she had to do was figure out what kind of magecraft the killer was using. The Edelfelt family used jewel magic, a method by which spells were stored in prana-infused gemstones and activated at the desired moment. While it could produce versatile effects, it relied heavily on preparing the proper spells in advance. Thus, knowing the enemy's magecraft would be key to countering and defeating him in combat. In the best case scenario, Rei would simply execute the serial killer — no magus, no matter how skilled, would be able to outfight a Servant — but Luvia couldn't count on things going so smoothly. In the worst case scenario, the enemy magus might have a Servant of his own capable of matching Rei in combat. If that was the case, Luvia wanted to be prepared to take him down in a one-on-one duel of magecraft.

The first thing Luvia took note of was the door. At first glance, she had thought that it had been blown off its hinges; but now that she was looking at it up close, she could tell that the damage was more intense than that. The entire slab of wood seemed to have been shattered, with the epicenter of the destruction in middle: nothing of the central portion remained, while there were still some large fragments of the edges and corners. Luvia considered an explosion, but there was no apparent burning or warping. Likewise, the fractures were far too fine and precise for the door to have been broken apart with magically-enhanced strength.

Based on the jigsaw-like way the door had broken into pieces, Luvia finally came to the tentative conclusion that the magecraft used was alchemy: a thaumatergical technique that converted one type of matter to another. The mage had used an alchemic reaction to break the door into small pieces. At the center of the door, where the reaction had begun, the wood had probably been reduced to its component atoms; the reaction had then lost strength as it spread out, resulting in larger and larger pieces towards the edges.

Alchemy was the signature magic of the Einzbern family, but Luvia strongly doubted that the Einzbern Master was responsible. For one thing, Einzbern Masters were hardly renowned for their combat magecraft; traditionally, they relied on either an outside contractor or the power of their Servant for dirty work. For another, the Einzbern were incredibly stuffy traditionalists. It was unthinkable that one of them would turn into a rogue serial killer and be allowed to go on a mad killing spree.

Having deduced all she could from the killer's means of entry, Luvia followed Rei deeper into the house. Rei led Luvia into the living room, where she was suddenly assaulted by the unmistakable stench of death. Two fresh corpses lay cooling on the floor amidst a puddle of blood. The backs of their skulls appeared to have exploded, spraying chunks of bone and liquified brain matter across the floor and walls.

"Ugh!" Luvia gagged. "You could have warned me!"

"There is no danger." Rei repeated tonelessly, unaffected by the gruesome sight.

Luvia fought down her nausea and forced herself to take in the scene in greater detail. One of the bodies was an adult male, the other a young boy; probably father and son. Their hair was blonde, and based on the serial killer's past method of choosing victims she assumed that their eyes had been blue — the damage inflicted to their faces made it hard to be certain.

There was a third person in the room as well: a dark-haired woman who Luvia assumed to be the man's wife, the child's mother. She was slumped in the corner clutching a telephone, which she had probably used to call the police. To Luvia's surprise, the woman was not dead; she had merely been put to sleep by the spell she'd used to enclose the house. From the fact that the killer had no longer been present when the bounded field went up, Luvia had assumed that he'd had time to finish his murderous work and move on. But if that was so, why had left behind a living woman? Even if she didn't fit his usual criteria for victim selection, she had to have seen everything that had happened. It didn't make sense to leave behind a witness.

For a moment, Luvia considered waking the woman and questioning her. However, she quickly decided that it would be more trouble than it was worth. The woman was probably traumatized from seeing her family killed in front of her; there was no telling if she'd be in any condition to speak rationally. Luvia couldn't afford the time it might take to calm her down and get her to explain things coherently: while the bounded field would prevent the police from finding the house as long as it was active, she couldn't leave it up for too long or it might result in some awkward questions getting asked. It was essential that magecraft be kept secret from ordinary people: causing a major ruckus in the Fuyuki police department over their mysterious inability to find a house that should be in plain sight was not conducive to that goal. Not to mention, if she questioned the woman, the woman would tell the police about her, too. Better to let the police handle the witness statement part of the investigation and sneak a look at the results once they were done.

Luvia turned her attention to the two corpses. Their faces were partially crushed; she could almost see the outline of a hand imprinted into their skulls. It was contact-based magecraft, then: the killer had to grasp his victim's head in his hand before he could destroy it. That was valuable combat data. But even more significantly, the sheer strength required to leave such an impression in flesh and bone suggested that the killing had been done by a Servant rather than a human magus. Trying to sense any residual mana in the bodies confirmed Luvia's suspicion: the method used to kill them had completely drained them of their life energy, their od. Magi didn't do that. But Servants were spiritual beings, and as such could consume spiritual energy.

"It's a soul-eater." Luvia said.

Servants didn't go around eating humans like the city was an all-you-can-eat buffet; it drew too much undesirable attention. For one thing, it could allow other Masters to gain knowledge regarding the Servant's location and killing technique, much as Luvia was now doing. For another, too much wanton killing would draw the attention of ordinary humans, which would in turn lead to the intervention of the Overseer of the Grail War. Generally, there were only two reasons that a Servant might resort to consuming human souls. The first was if a Master summoned a particularly sub-par Servant — he could order the Servant to increase its power by feeding on humans. The second was if a Servant lost its Master — it could consume souls to sustain its existence while searching for a new Master to form a contract with. The serial killer had been active for two months already, and it seemed unlikely that a Servant had lost its Master before the War had even begun — but what if it was an aberration like Rei, who had appeared without a Master in the first place? In that case, the serial killings had actually been a solitary Servant feeding on souls in order to survive.

Both explanations, however, failed to explain the serial killer's choice of targets. If all the Servant was after was the prana to be gained by devouring its target's soul, there should be no reason to restrict its selection of victims based on hair and eye color. The only possible explanation Luvia could conceive for that oddity was a strange psychological quirk of either the Master or Servant. For instance, the Servant's Master was a fanatic racial supremacist, and so only allowed it to feed on foreigners. Or else, the Servant would normally resist any order to kill innocents; but because of a grudge from their life, they were willing to target people with blonde hair and blue eyes.

Regardless of the motive, the fact remained that it presented Luvia with the perfect opportunity to use herself as bait. She just had to walk around the city, flaunting her features, and sooner or later the soul-eater would see her and pick a fight. Its methods didn't seem particularly subtle, so she wasn't worried about an ambush. Really, the biggest problem was that some other Master might see her as a threat and decide to eliminate her from the War. Tohsaka seemed to be showing at least a modicum of respect and holding back for now, but there was no guarantee that the other Masters would be so understanding.

On the other hand, now that she knew her target was a Servant, she had a very good justification for entering the Holy Grail War. She'd be able to tell Lord El-Melloi II that the only chance she'd had of defeating the serial-killer Servant was to contract with a Servant of her own. And if she went on to win the entire War, claim the Grail, and restore the lost honor of the Edelfelt family... well, now that was just a bonus, wasn't it?

"Abbrechen."

Luvia walked out of the house with Rei beside her, the bounded field collapsing at her command. The police cars which were circling the neighborhood in confusion would soon be able to reach their location; no doubt blame for the delay would fall on an error in whatever fancy computer navigation system they used. They would get on with their utterly futile investigation, trying in vain to comprehend the means and motive of a killer who hailed from a different era or even a different world. They would never succeed; the Holy Grail War would proceed in secrecy as it had for hundreds of years. A rogue magi was one thing, but the only one capable of stopping a Master and Servant was another Master and Servant.

Fortunately for the city, Luvia was a Master now. This rogue, murderous Servant would soon be handled — and with it, she would take the first step on her path to the Holy Grail.


	17. Day 2 Bazett Soliwo Tiwaz Raido

**Day 2: Bazett — Soliwo Tiwaz Raido **

In Einzbern forest, a woman ran for her life. She wore a dark business suit, and wore black gloves engraved with magical runes that granted enhanced strength and endurance. Her limbs pumped with mechanical precision as she dashed through the undergrowth, her short purple hair and long silver earrings dancing in the breeze of her speed. The woman's name was Bazett Fraga McRemitz, Master of Servant Lancer, and she was being pursued by a monster.

"What's wrong, lady?" a young girl's voice asked. "Were you expecting easier prey?"

The voice was eerily sourceless, seeming to emanate from all the surrounding trees. The forest was better defended than Bazett had bargained for: it was a gigantic bounded field, which allowed for the Einzbern Master to track her location and project taunts to her. While the second was merely annoying, the first was a major tactical disadvantage: the moment she and her Servant had set foot in the forest, the childish Master had known and dispatched her own Servant in response. While losing the element of surprise was a severe setback, that alone might not have been disastrous if the Servant had been a different one. But Berserker was one of the Servants with the worst compatibilities with her fighting style, and so she had no choice but to flee.

"What'd you expect, coming after an Einzbern?" the monster's Master continued. "If you wanted an easy victory, you should have picked one of the no-name magi instead of challenging the Master of the greatest of the Three Great Families on her own territory."

The mighty Berserker ran after Bazett, roaring in mindless rage. Its vocalizations were so intense that they didn't even seem human; it was as though the world itself shuddered under the primal rage of each shout. Bazett didn't look back at the monster pursuing her; she could judge its distance by the thunder of his footfalls and the crash of uprooted tree trunks. The density of the forest was the only reason Bazett had managed to stay ahead of it thus far: while she could dodge between the trunks, the Servant's great bulk meant that it had to cleave them out of its way. Each heavy swing of its stone axe-sword leveled a great swath of forest, but each moment it spent using the weapon was a few precious feet of ground Bazett gained on it.

"Run, run as fast as you can." the unseen girl's voice said in a mocking sing-song tone. "You'll never escape from my Berserker!"

Even magically enhanced, Bazett's strength would not last forever. The monster pursuing her, however, would never tire and never falter. The first glimpse she'd gotten of it had been enough for her to tell that it was possessed of inexhaustible strength; it was not merely an epic spirit, but a superhuman existence — a demigod at the very least. It was only a matter of time before Bazett either grew too tired to continue outpacing the relentless Servant or else reached open ground where it would easily overtake her.

But then, it wasn't her plan to keep running. Her Ace-Killing Joker might be a poor match against a Berserker; but as a Master, she had more than one trump card to play.

"Now, Lancer!" Bazett shouted.

She spoke in the instant after Berserker had unleashed his latest swing, sending the axe-sword surging outwards with unstoppable momentum. And in that same moment, when even all the strength contained in the monster's muscle-packed frame would not be enough to reverse the inertia of the extended sword and draw it back into a guard position, Bazett's Servant jumped from thicket he'd been crouching in and answered with the name of his Noble Phantasm.

"Gae Bolg!"

The Piercing Lance of Death Thorns shot forwards with such speed that it appeared like a shaft of red light impaling the hulking Servant through the heart. However, no splash of blood accompanied the lance's penetration; nor did the mighty Berserker give any utterance of pain. The tip of the spear had embedded itself within the enemy's heart, as the cursed weapon could not fail to do; but it seemed to have superimposed itself without actually inflicting any damage, as though it had pierced naught but fog. When Lancer withdrew the shaft, there was no wound or mark left behind on the Berserker's flesh.

No matter how strong the defense, it should not have been able to resist Gae Bolg. After all, his spear was not a mere shaft of metal, but a Conceptual Weapon embodying "piercing the heart without fail". The fact that it had struck but failed to inflict harm suggested that it had been countered by a Conceptual Weapon embodying an opposing concept; not "dodging" or "blocking", which could not stop Gae Bolg, but something like "negation of all damage". In all likelihood, the enemy Servant had a defensive Noble Phantasm that allowed it to ignore damage from otherwise successful attacks.

"Hah!" Childish laughter echoed through the forest. "As if you could harm Berserker with a second-rate Noble Phantasm like that! Look, if you aren't going to at least use A-rank attacks, he doesn't even have to try to defend; see?"

Bazett stopped running. She turned towards the giant Servant, which was now swinging its stone axe-sword at Lancer as he jumped from tree to tree, and smirked.

"Sorry, kid." she said. "I thought I might be in trouble for a moment there, but it looks like you lose this one after all."

"Oh? Just what do you mean by that?" the voice demanded.

Bazett opened the cap of the cylindrical container slung across her back. A lead sphere levitated out of the container floated above the palm of her outstretched left hand. Sparks of prana crackled like lightning between her glove and the floating sphere. The enemy Berserker took no notice and prepared to swing its mighty axe-sword once more; no attack by a mere human, not even one performed with the support of a powerful magic tool, could hope to overcome its defense. It was sadly ignorant of the sorcery trait of the McRemitz bloodline: "God's Holder". Using a secret technique passed down from Age of Gods, members of the McRemitz family could reproduce and wield the Gouging Sword of the War God, granted to their family by the Celtic god Lugh. What Bazett had summoned to her aid was not a Mystic Code, a merely human tool containing merely human magecraft; it was a true Noble Phantasm, a Divine Mystery capable of surpassing the common laws of the world.

It was Fragarach: That Which Comes Later Cuts First.

Fragarch's nature as a Noble Phantasm was an indefensible counter-attack. Like Gae Bolg, it functioned by altering causality: when the enemy attacked Bazett with their Noble Phantasm, the curse of Fragarach would cause it to reverse the sequence of events and strike them first. It inflicted an instant kill, preventing the enemy from launching their attack in the first place. As the ultimate counter, which could neutralize even the most powerful attack and kill the enemy that had launched it, it was also known as "Answerer" and "Retaliator". However, its nature as a counterattack was also its greatest weakness: it could only be deployed in response to the enemy's use of a Noble Phantasm. It was an Ace-killing Joker, which would beat the highest trump but lose to the lowliest of common attacks.

Bazett had not believed she would have the opportunity to use it against a Berserker-class opponent. The Mad Enhancement which made Berserkers so powerful also caused them to lose their skill with the weapons and special techniques they had wielded in life; they fought with brute strength rather than Noble Phantasms. Even if the axe-sword wielded by the Berserker had been some legendary weapon in life, it was now nothing more than a lump of inert stone in the mad Servant's hands, and Fragarch would not awaken in response to a mundane technique.

But now, in repulsing Lancer's strike, the Berserker had demonstrated that it did still possess a Noble Phantasm that had not been sealed by its insanity: a defensive rather than offensive technique. And even better, since it was permanently active, Fragarach could be utilized against it at any time. Bazett didn't even need to wait for the enormous Servant to begin swinging its weapon at her. She drew back her right hand and punched the floating lead ball.

The transformation was instantaneous. As soon as Bazett's fist struck the back of the sphere, a blade emerged from the front. The sphere then accelerated forwards with incalculable speed, becoming a beam of force that penetrated Berserker through the forehead. With a sound like a hammer striking a ripe melon, the mighty Servant's imposing visage was blown apart. Skull fragments and chunks of pulped brain matter splattered against the surrounding tree trunks. A large eyeball rolled across the ground, coming to a rest staring blindly downwards at the dirt. And the headless Berserker slumped over, steam rising from the ragged, charred stump of its neck.

"It's over, Einzbern." Bazett said to the trees. "If you wish to withdraw from the War, I will promise you safe passage to Kotomine Church. Refuse, and I will send my Lancer to take your heart."

"My, my, aren't you getting a bit ahead of yourself." the Einzbern Master's voice said. "I think you'd better take another look at Berserker and reevaluate your situation."

The fallen titan's body shuddered. The flesh Servant's severed neck throbbed and pulsated, then burst upwards as a new skull erupted from the top of the spinal cord. A wave of muscle surged up to cover it, then a wave of flesh flowed over the muscle. Red light blazed in the freshly formed eye sockets. Berserker drew itself back to its full height and roared its defiance of death, causing all the trees of the forest to shake with its fury.

"Since it seems you haven't figured it out yet, I guess I'll just have to tell you." the voice said. "Berserker's true identity is none other than the greatest hero of ancient Greece: Heracles! I'm certain you know the legend of the Twelve Labors. Berserker's Noble Phantasm, God Hand, gives him an extra life for each of the great labors he completed."

Bazett clenched her teeth. If the unseen Einzbern homunculus was speaking the truth, then the opposing Servant was protected by multi-layered resurrection spells. In other words, it was the worst possible opponent for her to face. The great strength of Fragarch was its ability to instantly kill an opponent with a single blow. However, this power came at a price: limited use. It took months to produce a single one of the lead spheres which she used to perform the attack. Bazett had only been able to prepare three of them for this Holy Grail War, one of which she had just used. Bazett had thought this had meant she would be able to eliminate three enemy Servants without difficulty; but due to the power of God Hand, defeating this single Servant would require four times the number of Fragarach she possessed.

"Forgive my impoliteness, but I won't be offering you the same courtesy you offered me." the Einzbern Master continued. "The Holy Grail War is a battle to the death — death of both Servant and Master. I won't be letting you slip away to take sanctuary at the Church — once Berserker has finished off your Lancer, I'll have him grind you into the dirt as well!"

Berserker once more raised his enormous stone axe-sword, and Bazett couldn't help but unconsciously take a step backwards from the inhuman Heroic Spirit.

"Not to worry, my Master; we're not completely out of tricks yet." Lancer said, jumping to the ground beside her. "Scathach taught me a thing or two during my stay in the Land of Shadows."

Lancer traced one finger along the side of Gae Bolg, sketching out runes that glowed with fiery light.

"Soliwo! Tiwaz! Raido!" he incanted.

Bazett felt the burden of supplying her Servant with prana suddenly increase as the demonic lance began to burn with an infernal energy. The power emanating from it seemed to freeze the air around her. She could tell just by looking at it that it had been elevated to an entirely new level as a Noble Phantasm.

"I can't keep this up for long, but that's fine — I'll settle things with one strike." Lancer said. "_Gae Bolg!_"

The red lance once more leapt from his hand and penetrated Berserker's heart — and this time, there was a spray of blood as the lance's curse took hold. The giant Servant staggered and feel to his knees, and his eyes clouded over with death.

"Wounds inflicted by Gae Bolg don't heal easily." Lancer said casually. "His Noble Phantasm will bring him back to life — but I figure having a hole in his heart might slow him down a bit."

"You really don't know your history, do you?" the Einzbern Master's mocking voice said. "If you were more familiar with Greek mythology, you might be aware that Heracles was fatally poisoned by a cloak soaked in the blood of the centaur Nessus. However, even consumed as he was with unbearable agony as the poisonous blood brought him to the brink of death, he was able to kill the servant Lichas who had brought him the lethal cloak."

"I have a bad feeling about where this is going." Lancer said.

"Because of this feat, Heracles has the Personal Skill called Battle Continuation — the ability to keep fighting no matter how severely he's wounded!" the enemy Master said triumphantly.

Light rekindled in the hulking brute's eyes. Ignoring the blood that continued to ooze from the hole in his chest, he set his sights on Lancer once more.

"Oh, sure, he throws one lousy servant into the sea and gets Battle Continuation." Lancer muttered. "I tied myself to a rock so I could die standing up, you know. It wasn't until the birds set in on me that my enemies actually believed I was dead. I held off an entire army while _dead_; I _earned_ my Battle Continuation!"

Bazett glanced at Lancer.

"It's not like you to complain." she said.

"Sorry, Master, I didn't mean to whine." Lancer said. "I don't like to abandon a fight just because I'm losing, but it looks like there's no other choice in this case. When I accepted that geas to never back down from a fight, I never imagined facing something like this. And there is my Master's safety to consider, after all."

Bazett nodded.

"I'll knock him down one more time." she said. "As soon as he falls, I'll activate a Command Spell. That should be enough for us to escape."

Command Spells could be used in more than one way. As the name implied, they could force obedience from a reticent Servant. However, if a Servant was already willing to obey a given command, the Command Spell could be used to bolster the Servant's ability to carry it out. Thus far, despite their best efforts to escape, Berserker had been overtaking them; but with reinforcement from a Command Spell, Lancer would probably get the extra boost he needed to carry her to safety. However, not even a Command Spell would help if the ordered task was actually physically impossible for the Servant — which was why Bazett hoped to get a head start by temporarily disabling Berserker with another killing blow. As much as she regretted the necessity of using the second of her three precious Fragarach on an enemy who wouldn't be defeated by it, the top priority at this point was escaping alive. A lead sphere shot from her carrying case and began crackling with electric charge as it hovered over her gloved left hand.

"That's useless." the voice of the Einzbern homunculus said. "You've already killed him with that attack once. But each of the Twelve Labors was different, right? So the blessings of immortality granted for them must each be eliminated in a different way. Too bad for you, but he can't be killed the same way twice."

Bazett, however, only smiled grimly and then punched the floating orb. The sphere crackled with electricity and grew a blade; then Bazett punched it, and it transformed into a blinding beam of pure force shooting towards Berserker. The giant Servant's Noble Phantasm lay in wait, like invisible armor that protected Berserker from harm. It was a power that refuted attacks, refusing to acknowledge any harm from abilities beneath A Rank. Furthermore, it was adaptive: it learned from the attacks that managed to bypass it and claim one of Berserker's twelve lives and changed in response. Fragarach had already slain Berserker once; God Hand knew it now, and had prepared itself to neutralize even the beam of power which promised instant death.

But Fragarch was more than merely a powerful magical attack; it was a true Noble Phantasm, a Divine Mystery that could not so easily be denied. The reason it was an ultimate trump card was because, like Gae Bolg, it altered causality. A normal counterattack could only be launched in response to an attack; thus, any normal counter Bazett might deploy in response to a Noble Phantasm would at best result in a mutual kill. Fragarach, however, was a divine blade that warped causality in order to deliver its counter-strike before the actual attack that triggered it. The opponent would be killed moments before the activation of their Noble Phantasm, thus preventing it from occurring at all. And though God Hand was a defensive rather than offensive Noble Phantasm, the same principle applied.

The beam of force struck Berserker in the inner thigh. It was an attack that had killed him before, and God Hand remembered it; the Noble Phantasm refuted this second strike by applying the Concept of "denial of injury" to the impact. No damage from the attack would be recognized, and no harm would be permitted to occur.

But this denial was meaningless in the face of Fragarach. For when God Hand activated to deny it, Fragarach's causality-alteration ability was triggered: it was the Sword of Retrograde, and it cut backwards through time. The attack impacted Berserker the moment before the Concept of denial would have been applied to it, and Berserker's pelvis was blown apart by the Gouging Sword of the War God. Not only was the titanic Servant once more slain, but one of his legs was severed from his body. Battle Continuation or no, he wouldn't be able to resume pursuit of them within moments of his resurrection; he would at least have to wait long enough for his leg to regenerate. It was the opportunity Bazett had been waiting for.

"By my Command Spell, I order you!" she called. "Lancer — take me to safety!"

Though her left hand was covered by a black glove, she could feel the burst of prana as one of her three marks vanished and the command took hold. Lancer burned brightly with renewed vigor as the seal's magic gave him the power to carry out his desire to save her. He moved with previously unseen speed, snatching Bazett up in his arms as though she were as light as a pillow and then dashing through the forest's trees as naturally as if he'd practiced all his life. Berserker's fallen body soon vanished from sight, and the Einzbern Master's exhortations for her Servant to quickly regenerate and resume pursuit faded as they moved out of earshot. With the incredible speed Lancer was now displaying, it didn't take long for them to completely escape the forest.

Bazett knew the moment that they'd reached safety. She felt a powerful tingling sensation across her body as they passed through the edge of the bounded field which enclosed the Einzbern forest; at the same time, the effects of the Command Spell faded, its purpose having been fulfilled. Now that they were out of the bounded field, the Einzbern Master had no way of keeping track of their movements; and though Berserker was ferocious in combat, its madness made it incapable of tracking them. Still, it wouldn't be wise to tempt fate by lingering in the area too long, so she decided they had best head back to the apartment serving as her base of operations. Lancer set her back on her feet, and the pair began walking.

"Well, that wasn't exactly a success." Lancer said conversationally. "You've already used two of your three Fragarach, and we haven't eliminated even a single opponent."

"The Fragarach haven't provided the advantage I expected." Bazett admitted. "I suppose it was arrogant of me to think that I'd be able to one-hit kill half the opposition."

"Either that, or my E-rank Luck is dragging us down." Lancer said. "Y'know, that Kotomine guy's offer of an alliance is probably still valid. Personally, I don't like him; but it looks like you've worked together before. The way things are going, it seems our only hope of winning is if we pull some kind of dirty trick. I wouldn't personally approve, but I find myself kind of liking you as a Master; if you think it's necessary for our victory, I'll abide by your decision."

"I won't be going to Kotomine." Bazett said.

"Ethical objections at cheating?" Lancer asked. "How very unlike you, my Master. Unless, of course, it's a matter of pride — you want to win the Holy Grail by your own hand, without anyone's support?"

"I have neither moral nor emotional problems with the collaboration." Bazett said, a little stiffly. "In fact, when the Mage's Association first proposed to cooperate with Kotomine in order to ensure we win the Grail, I supported the idea — it seemed the most pragmatic path to victory."

"What changed, then?" Lancer asked.

"Kotomine." Bazett said. "From my interaction with him before summoning you, I could tell that he has changed in many ways from the man I once fought beside... and not for the better. While I am willing to overlook personal conflicts for the sake of the mission, I found his demeanor disturbing enough that I had to reconsider whether he would be a trustworthy accomplice."

"I definitely got a bad vibe from him." Lancer agreed. "Something about the way he chose his words, like everything was a joke that only he got. He was definitely keeping things from us. And I could swear that I felt the presence of another Servant somewhere nearby for just a moment after I was summoned."

"An ally you can't trust is worse than an enemy." Bazett affirmed.

"Still, that leaves you in a pretty bad spot." Lancer said. "We haven't defeated a single opponent, you've lost your planned assistance from the Overseer, you're down to one Fragarach, and I honestly don't stand a chance against that monster of a Servant the Einzberns have managed to summon. I don't think anyone would blame you for dropping out and seeking sanctuary at the Church."

"Out of the question." Bazett said. "I entered this War with the intention to win, and I still fully intend to do so. Even without Kotomine or the Fragarach, we still have options. With a sufficiently considered strategy, we can overcome any opponent."

Lancer grinned ferally.

"You see?" he said. "It's precisely because you go and say things like that that you're worthy of being my Master."

"And E-rank Luck or not, I wouldn't have any Servant other than you." Bazett said.

"Now you're just flattering me." Lancer said.

"No, I'm being sincere." Bazett said, fingering her earrings. "I chose to summon you. The Mage's Association wanted me to use a different catalyst: Saber is considered the most powerful class of Servant, and you're only qualified to be Lancer, Caster, or Berserker. They only relented when I threatened to refuse the assignment entirely unless given the right to summon you. Ever since I was a child, I've admired your story — the Ulster Cycle, I mean. It was your heroic legend that inspired me to work so hard at developing my talent and become a member of the Association in the first place. So I won't give up on fighting with you. No matter how large our disadvantage, I'll figure out a way for us to win."

"What magnificent fighting spirit." Lancer said. "Keep thinking like that, and we're guaranteed to win — or if we lose, at least we'll lose with style. I don't think we'll be accomplishing anything more tonight, though, so let's give the other Masters a chance to have a go at each other. Maybe we'll get lucky and one of them will take out Berserker for us."

The Master and Servant pair disappeared into the night.


	18. Day 2 False Caster Unnecessary Things

**Day 2: False Caster — Unnecessary Things**

A slender female figure moved silently through the night, her cape fluttering behind her as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop. It was definitely not how the young Caster had pictured her war strategy going. Specifically, she'd expected to have a Master who would do all the tactical planning for her. He'd be laying out the plans, and she'd be hard at work setting up a magical workshop — a nice hidey-hole, easy to protect with bounded fields, where she could produce some nice magical items for her Master. From the information about the Holy Grail War that had been dropped into her head when she'd been summoned, it appeared that the class she'd been summoned as — Caster — was very weak in the initial stages of the War. Servants of Caster class seemed to be intended to rely primarily on stealth and defense until they could build up enough magical support to allow them to surpass their enemies in strength in the later stages of the War. That wasn't anything like her usual fighting style: cower and hide for half the war? Absurd! She primarily specialized in offensive magic and was prepared to start slinging spells of mass destruction from the word go. Still, she'd been planning to consult her Master about how best her skills might be utilized before making any reckless moves. He was presumably a powerful and intelligent magus with detailed knowledge of the Holy Grail War; if there really was a good reason she should try to play defense for the first half of the ritual, then he'd be able to explain it to her.

Of course, there was one thing that she had completely not been counting on, and that was the existence of a second Servant of the Caster class who had already made a contract with her summoner. The other Caster looked just as surprised to see her; apparently it was quite abnormal for one Master to summon two Servants. Still, she hadn't seen it as a serious obstacle: if anything, it could be a major advantage for Team Caster. Two Servants fighting towards a common goal would easily eliminate any opposition. It quickly became apparent, however, that the other Caster was a total psycho bitch. The purple-hooded hag straight-out murdered her own Master, and then had started launching magic blasts at her! She'd barely managed to speak the incantation for the spell that enveloped her in a protective bubble of wind before getting blown halfway across the city by that madwoman.

That could very well have been the end of her, as Casters were not able to maintain their form for long without a steady supply of prana: either from a Master or from constantly feeding on human souls. The one who summoned her was dead; and, despite her occasional forays into some of the darker areas of black magic, she had never dabbled in soul-eating. Under such circumstances, most Servants would simply fade away. However, she had a large advantage that the purple Caster didn't know about: her Noble Phantasm.

It took the form of four magic gems: a white one set into a talisman below her throat, a blue one set into a talisman on her right wrist, a black one set into a talisman on her left wrist, and a red one set into a talisman on her waist. Used in conjunction, they were a Support type Noble Phantasm capable of providing her with unlimited prana. It didn't mean she could draw on infinite power all at once: if she tried using them to generate too much prana at one time, her Servant body would probably explode into gobs of flaming ectoplasm. But as for allowing her to exist indefinitely without any support from a Master, her Noble Phantasm had that covered.

Of course, prana was only one form of support that Masters gave their Servants, and the caped Caster found herself in need of support of an entirely different sort: strategic and tactical. Despite what some of the over-exaggerated epithets ascribed to her like "Black Witch"or "Queen of Destruction" might lead one to think, she'd never actually fought in a war before. Her specialty, such as it was, had actually been closer to... well, _theft_, if one must put it vulgarly. And as it so happened, that was what she was currently engaged in.

Sure, when she ultimately obtained the Grail she would be able to wish for infinite wealth and power; but in the short term, there wasn't a lot she could do to work towards winning it at the moment. It would probably be best to lay low for a bit, let the field of enemies thin itself out some. Then, once a suitable Master lost his Servant and decided to seek a contract with another, she'd drop in and make a pact so they could compete as a team. But in the meantime, there was no reason not to keep in practice. Plus, there was always the chance she might steal some powerful magical artifact that could prove useful in the War: any advantage might help.

Magic seemed to be much scarcer in this world she'd been summoned to than it was in her own, but that didn't mean there wasn't still treasure to be found. If anything, it made locating things of value easier: rather than a general haze of magic residue blanketing the city, it was concentrated in just a few spots: the houses of those magus lineage. Such buildings were inevitably defended by bounded fields, but such minor magecraft meant nothing to a beautiful and talented sorcery genius such as herself. She didn't even have to disable the spells; she could slip in and out without triggering them, leaving no trace of presence. Really, the biggest risk was the possibility of being ambushed by another Servant: those involved deeply enough in magecraft to have magic items lying around were potential Masters, and she might not be able to detect a Servant in spiritual form until it was too late. But then, the risk was part of the fun.

In the present moment, luck seemed to be on her side. She'd been casing a mansion, trying to decide whether or not it was safe to break in, when the front door had burst open and some brash blue-haired kid had run out with his Servant in tow. Her first thought was that she'd been spotted, but it quickly became apparent that the kid had no idea he was there; rather, from what she could overhear of the orders he gave his Servant, he was heading out to pick a fight with a different Master. It seemed he'd learned that the Einzbern Master, whoever that was, had been sighted leaving her fortified defensive position and entering the city; an apparently unexpected event, and one that he was eager to take advantage of.

She waited a bit after he rushed off, to make sure that his Servant didn't sense her — the Servant seemed to be of the Rider class, which wasn't as good at sensing presences as Caster, and the blindfold she wore couldn't help matters; but Servants as a whole had much keener senses than humans, and there was no sense tempting fate by getting careless — then made her way through the bounded field and sidled up against the door. A quick, whispered incantation undid the lock, and then she was inside.

It didn't take any time at all to locate the magic item that had attracted her attention: while it had been hidden in a cleverly concealed safe, its emanations were so strong that it shone like a lit torch in a dark room to her senses. Another softly spoken spell unlocked the safe, though she didn't dare open it immediately: there was likely to be a layer of alarm spells on the safe itself. Disarming these actually took a bit more time than she'd expected; not only were they quite finicky, set to go off on a hair trigger, but the overwhelming aura coming from the safe's contents made it difficult for her to make out the more subtle defensive spells. It nearly reached the point where she was prepared to just rip the safe itself out of the wall and start running, but fortunately she had only just begun contemplating the idea when she felt the protective spells finally unravel beneath her touch. She eagerly opened the safe, casting her eyes on the treasure within.

It was even better than she had imagined. A sword of dazzling beauty, apparently crafted entirely of shimmering crystal, thrumming with potent magical energy. She ran her hands over it, trying to decipher the function of the powerful enchantment. She quickly became aware that the sword bore the unmistakable taint of black magic. It didn't seem to be part of the sword's original manufacture, but a corruption that had been introduced by another in order to twist the sword's original function to his own dark ends. Not that she minded much, as she was quite comfortable working with black magic; it was the area she most excelled in, as a matter of fact. Power was power, regardless of its origins. Just because a bunch of stuffy old men declared something "forbidden" or "dangerous" or "pure evil" didn't mean she was going to be a good girl and just leave it alone. Okay, so maybe there was a bit of truth to that "Black Witch" title after all, but she firmly believed that what mattered was not the nature of the power itself but how that power was used. Some of her most legendary victories had only been achieved because she'd dared to use types of magic that more proper, respectable magi wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. And sure, her homeland now had a couple of craters which no animals would ever approach and within which no plants would ever grow; but looking at things rationally, that was really a small price to pay for saving the whole damn world.

In any case, it was exactly the kind of thing she was looking for: a powerful magic artifact that could help make up for the deficiency of not having a Master and tilt the odds of the Grail War back in her favor. She actually wasn't half bad with a sword; nowhere near skilled enough to qualify for the Saber class, but she could hold her own in a fight if need be. And if she didn't end up needing it... well, it was still valuable. No such thing as too much treasure. She carefully inserted the sword into one of the numerous pouches attached to the inside of her cape, where it would be easy to carry and safely out of sight. Once she retreated to a safe place and had more time to study it, she'd be able to craft a spell to hide its magical emanations — otherwise, those with sharp magical senses might be able to use it as a beacon to track her location.

As she finished stowing the sword, a sound caught the young, caped Caster's attention. A soft, slimy sound, coming from within the house's old wooden walls. A shiver ran up her spine, and she couldn't help but shudder. She absolutely loathed slimy creatures — slugs, worms, and all the verminous ilk. Now that she was on edge, she got the strange sensation that she was being watched. It felt like she was the focus of thousands of unseen eyes, peering out at her through gaps in the old floorboards and cracks in the rotted walls.

She shook herself. It was just her imagination running wild, she told herself; nothing to be concerned with. Still, the thrill of success had worn off, and now all she felt was the urge to get out of this place. She quickly departed, the itchy sensation of being watched fading as she escaped in the cool night air. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she felt glad to be out of that place.

As she slipped furtively into the night, she noticed the blue-haired boy she'd seen earlier running back in the direction of his house. From the paleness of his face, the panicked speed of his run, and the fact that his Servant wasn't by his side, she could only conclude that the Einzbern Master had given him a solid smackdown. She felt a perverse pleasure at the thought; it'd serve him right for having such a creepy house. But she didn't linger to watch his reaction to discovering her theft, instead stealing away into the shadows like a thief in the night.

===Interlude: Shinji Matou===

Shinji Matou was filled with trepidation as he descended into the basement. He hated having to deliver bad news to grandfather; Zouken would blame him for whatever went wrong, whether it was actually Shinji's fault or not. Nevertheless, Shinji had no choice but to tell Zouken: if he didn't, grandfather would know, and scold Shinji even more severely for his cowardice. Somehow, grandfather always knew.

The bad news he had to deliver was twofold. First, there was the failed attack on the Einzbern puppet. The stupid doll leaving its castle and prancing into the city had seemed the perfect opportunity to eliminate one of the other Great Families from the War; how was he supposed to know that the wretched thing had a walking mountain for a Servant!? As for his own Servant, her performance had been nothing short of pathetic. Rider's chains had bounced off the Berserker's chest like they were cheap plastic toys; then it hadn't been fast enough in dodging and was half-killed by a single blow. He shouldn't have expected anything else from any dumb bitch that would obey a summons from his slut sister, but he just knew that Zouken would somehow place the blame on him. And that Einzbern kid, she hadn't even taken him seriously! When he'd been forced to retreat because of the injuries Rider sustained, she'd ordered Berserker not to bother chasing him down, because he wasn't important! He, Shinji Matou, had been dismissed as unimportant! Made no mistake: he'd make her suffer excruciatingly for this slight. After getting rid of that monster protecting her, he'd personally drag her down into the worm pit to be eaten alive. Or, even better — rather than the feeding her to the parasitic worms that would steal her prana for use by grandfather or Rider, he would introduce her to the same magecraft-enhancing Crest Worms that infested Sakura's body. And once the worms had driven her mad with lust, he'd see what she thought of him then! He'd force her to repay him again and again for having slighted him, and she'd beg him to do it! The Crest Worms truly were grandfather's finest creation.

The second bad news was worse. When he'd returned to the house after the battle, he'd found the front door unlocked. Someone had taken advantage of his and Rider's absence to break in. When Shinji had gone to the safe, he'd found his worst fears confirmed: the most valuable item in the house had been stolen. One lost battle was easily forgiven, as Shinji still had his Servant: he simply had to redeem himself by winning the next one. But the lost item was irreplaceable. And Zouken would, undoubtably, somehow find a way to blame Shinji for allowing it to be stolen.

Upon arriving in the basement, Shinji didn't see grandfather around anywhere. That could only mean that he was rejuvenating himself in the pit. Shinji stepped as close to the edge as he dared — he did not feel a visceral revulsion towards the Crest Worms, as most people did, but he did have a strong respect for their power and therefore danger — and called out for his grandfather.

The worms in the pit reacted to his voice, quickly rising from dormancy and beginning to swarm. A large mass of them converged on the still-struggling form of one of the wretched victims serving as a food supply, source of prana, and incubator for their eggs. The writhing worms plunged eagerly into the victim's ravaged body, burrowing deep into his or her muscles and organs. The person's emaciated figure seemed to return to a grotesque parody of normalcy as more and more worms squirmed their way inside of it, taking the place of the tissues they had eaten. Then the seizures set in, and Shinji knew the worms had reached the brain. Though the victim's consciousness had previously been left intact — necessary, to ensure the body's continued production of prana for the worms — there was no longer any need for this vessel to have a mind. The worms gorged themselves on brain matter, packing the inside of the skull with their own bodies and arranging themselves into a functional facsimile of Zouken's brain. Whoever the victim had once been, they were now effectively dead, and their body under the control of Zouken Matou. Watching the process served as a stark reminder to Shinji that the physical body he addressed as "grandfather" was not actually Zouken himself. Only one of Zouken's Crest Worms housed his actual soul, and it would not be one of the ones placed into such an obvious target as the body he used: it was no doubt hidden somewhere secret, somewhere safe, exerting control over the other worms from a distance.

Next came the physical transformation of the body, the part of the process that fascinated Shinji most. The body's flesh flowed like molten wax as the worms remade it to match Zouken's mental image of himself. For a few moments, Shinji saw what Zouken must have looked like in his youth: a hale and hearty blue-haired man. But it didn't last long: the hair fell out, the flesh sagged, the spine bent, and Zouken took on his usual appearance. His 500 years of age were engraved on his soul itself, and he could not escape the weight of those many years no matter how many fresh new bodies he took for himself.

"My robe." Zouken said in his raspy voice.

Shinji quickly handed a black robe to grandfather as he emerged from the worm pit. Zouken was at his most energetic in the moments following the transformation: suffused with freshly stolen prana, and inhabiting a body that had not yet begun to stink of decay. Confessing to his faults to grandfather was difficult enough when the old man was half-rotted and staying in bed to conserve vital energy; the thought of delivering the news he bore to Zouken in his current powerful state was enough to make Shinji break out into a cold sweat.

"Well?" Zouken demanded. "You had a reason for waking me, I presume? Go on, spit it out!"

"Grandfather..." Shinji swallowed in fear. "I regret to report that there has been a break-in. The safe was opened, and that special item... the Mystic Code... was gone."

"I am aware." Zouken said. "My worms witnessed the theft."

There were several moments of tense silence while Shinji waited for Zouken to speak further, but the only sound in the dark room was the undulations of the worms. Finally, Shinji couldn't bear the tension any longer.

"And what are you going to do about it!?" Shinji demanded.

"Nothing." Zouken said simply.

It took Shinji a few moments to be certain he'd heard right.

"Nothing?" he sputtered. "Nothing!? Someone broke into our home and stole something precious—"

"Something worthless." Zouken corrected sharply. "I value only those things which are necessary; all else is dross. The Mystic Code has already performed the function I required of it, and will not be needed again. Furthermore, the modifications I made to it for the purpose of fulfilling that particular function have rendered it unsuitable for being used for its original function as a weapon, so I need not fear the thief using it against me. The moment it had no further use for me, it became an unnecessary thing, devoid of any value."

Shinji had a hard time thinking about it that way. The Gem Sword had been a legendary Mystic Code; even if grandfather's alterations meant it could no longer be used as a weapon, it was hard not to think of the shining crystal blade as an item of immense value. Still, he had little choice but to agree with Zouken.

"I understand." Shinji said, a little hesitantly.

"Oh, do you, now!?" Zouken demanded, casting one wrathful eye at Shinji's trembling body. "Tell me this then, boy: What have you done so far to prove your value to me in this war? Have you defeated any Servants? Killed any Masters? Are you even a single solitary step closer to achieving the dream I have striven for over the centuries? Or are you just another unnecessary thing?"

"I..." Shinji said falteringly. "I have gained... valuable tactical information about Berserker and the Einzbern Master... Which I will act on, as soon as Rider recovers from its injuries. Rest assured, by tomorrow night, I will have come up with a plan for defeating Berserker."

Zouken didn't dignify Shinji with a response, simply turning his back and walking upstairs. Shinji was left alone in the darkness, trembling with shame and anger. Normally when Shinji felt this way, he was able to vent his feelings on Sakura. But his sister wasn't here; the slut had probably run off to Emiya's house, now that Zouken was allowing her a bit more free reign. She should've been down in the pit, but Zouken wasn't forcing the worms on her anymore, apparently as a reward for summoning the Rider Servant that she didn't even want and which was so shitty it couldn't even land a hit on Berserker...

Though, that did give Shinji an idea. It might just be a Servant, but it was female; a fairly attractive looking-one, in fact. With her pale skin, long purple hair, and large breasts, she even looked somewhat similar Sakura. And the Crest Worms, those wonderful worms which drove Sakura into such a lustful frenzy that he could make her beg him to violate her, were inside of Rider as well. They were supposed to be providing her with the prana which he was incapable of giving due to his lack of magic circuits, but he was sure Zouken wouldn't mind if he switched them to their other function for just a while. It would be the perfect way to punish Rider for humiliating him with her failure.

"Rider!" Shinji shouted, raising the Book of the False Attendant. "Come and serve your Master!"

In the nearby pit, the worms stirred. They sensed his lust and hatred and desire to violate, and it made them writhe in dark ecstacy as they anticipated what was to follow.

===Interlude Out===


End file.
